


Shield and Sword

by Anath_Tsurugi



Series: Just One Chance [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Miserable attempts at legendarium references, The One - Freeform, The Seven, unrealized Durincest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anath_Tsurugi/pseuds/Anath_Tsurugi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is struck down at the Battle of Five Armies. In order to save his life, Thorin makes a deal with the Necromancer...and through his meddling, the fate of Middle-earth is altered forever.  (Sort of a continuation of 'Just One Chance, Just One Breath'.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Shield

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I suppose I had better explain myself. When I say that this is "sort of" a continuation, I mean it's kind of like an alternate ending to my alternate ending story. I got some ideas whilst I was working on 'Just One Chance', and started thinking to myself, what if…and here we stand. For those of you who know that story, assume this one picks up after Kili confronts Thorin and you'll have a pretty good handle on this. You don't need to have read it to get what's going on, though. It just adds another layer of enjoyment.
> 
> I'm not entirely certain where this is going, so…let's see what kind of trouble we can get into…

Five days.

It had been five days since the Battle of Five Armies had ended…five days since Bilbo had fallen defending Thorin from Azog…five days since Fili's death…five days since Kili had broken.

Five days the little hobbit had struggled for life…and it was now starting to look like he might lose that fight. Bilbo shook with chills and fever, a sickness brought on by the poisoned arrow that had struck his collarbone. His breathing was growing more ragged with each hour that passed and Thorin was growing more and more anxious.

The dwarf king knelt with his chin resting in his clasped hands, elbows resting on Bilbo's cot, eyes never leaving the hobbit's haggard face. He had spent the last five days torn up with guilt and grief…grief for his nephews…and guilt for the way he'd treated Bilbo at their parting over the Arkenstone. At the thought that he might lose Bilbo, all greed for treasure and glory had gone from his heart. It had been replaced with a need for the halfling to live. If Bilbo did not survive…then something in him would die…as something in Kili had died at Fili's passing. He had become so desperate, he was actually praying. He didn't know whom to and he didn't care…so long as _someone_ listened.

"Don't take him away from me," he pleaded. "I won't be able to live without him. Was it not enough to lose Fili for my sins? I would give up everything I have…in payment for his life."

_**Did I hear you right, Thorin, son of Thrain son of Thror? You would give up**_ everything?

Thorin's head shot up at this, darting around the tent, searching for the source of that cold, haunted voice. But there was no one. For all he could see, he and Bilbo were still alone in the tent.

"Who's there?" he demanded, slowly rising to his feet. "Who calls?"

_**One who would answer your prayer, Oakenshield.** _

"Who are you?" he asked. He couldn't be certain, but it almost seemed to him that the lanterns had gone dim.

_**Does it matter? I have the power to save the one you love, and I will do it…but I must have fair value from you in return.** _

"What do you want?" Thorin asked. To his eyes, there still seemed to be no one else in the tent, but he felt besieged from all sides, just the same. Something was there with him.

_**You said it yourself. Everything you have. I would have your allegiance, King Under the Mountain.** _

"What do you mean?"

_**Give yourself over to me…Thorin Oakenshield…and I will save the life of your beloved. I will**_ stop _**him from dying.**_

"How do you mean…give myself? What would you have me do?" the dwarf king pressed, wary of this dark voice, but ready to make a deal if it meant saving Bilbo.

_**Be my eyes and ears. Lend your resources to me when it proves necessary. Be mine…to summon and control.** _

"And may I…know the name of my new master?" Thorin asked, the last word nearly sticking in his mouth.

_**Ah…that is a difficult answer. I have had so many. I believe, at the moment, they call me the Necromancer.** _

Thorin felt his heart grow cold at this. The dark enemy…the one Gandalf feared.

_**Choose swiftly, son of Durin, for your little one will perish without my help. In fact…I may just**_ take _ **him from you.**_

At this, Thorin felt the horrific presence that dominated the tent direct itself. It moved, with a singular will, toward Bilbo.

" _NO!_ " Thorin cried out, throwing himself back toward the hobbit, covering his fragile body with his own. He would gladly take death upon himself before he let it come to Bilbo.

"Thorin! Thorin!" Gandalf's voice shouted somewhere far off.

_**Time grows short, little king. The wizard approaches. Make your choice.** _

"Why me?"

_**Why? Because I recognize a desperate soul when I see one. I can see that you will give me anything to save his life…to keep him safe. Besides…I wish to see what you will do.** _

"Do?"

_**You are not like other dwarf lords. Your greed has left you utterly. I am curious to see what there is to be done with that.** _

As the Necromancer spoke to him, Thorin looked down at Bilbo's ashen face. Looking at him now, he could easily believe his greed had left him. Only, this thing he was about to do…for he would, there was no doubt in his heart…would the cost be worth it in the end?

" _Thorin!_ "

Gandalf's voice was closer now.

_**CHOOSE**_ , the voice thundered through him. As he looked up, a ring materialized from the darkness…a ring he recognized. A silver circle set with a blue stone: a treasure of his house…the ring that had been lost with his father.

"How?"

Now, _**Thorin Oakenshield! Take this tool and bind yourself to me…or lose the one thing you still care for.**_

"All right," Thorin finally declared, reaching out and taking the ring. As he did it, the stifling presence instantly vanished and Gandalf burst into the tent, staff lit and held high. When he saw only the dwarf and the hobbit, his eyes widened slightly in confusion.

"Is something the matter, master wizard?" the dwarf king asked, only half looking at him.

"I…I could have sworn I felt…"

"Felt what?"

"A dark presence," the wizard answered, a troubled look in his eyes. Then he noticed the way Thorin was crouched so protectively over Bilbo. "Thorin…what _were_ you-"

"Thorin?"

Bilbo's small whisper was better than any shout for drawing the king's attention away from Gandalf. Looking down, he saw Bilbo's eyes blinking open and the color returning to his face. Barely taking the time to be careful of both their injuries, Thorin wrapped his arms around the halfling… _his_ halfling.

"You came back," Thorin whispered, burying his face in Bilbo's mussed curls. "You came back to me."

"I could never…leave you," Bilbo said softly, returning the embrace as tightly as he could.

"Thorin hasn't left your side," Gandalf informed the hobbit, a fond smile starting to overtake the troubled expression. "I shall inform the others you are awake," he said as he headed out of the tent, but not before throwing one last odd glance at Thorin.

Maybe Thorin wouldn't have done what he did if he'd known…if he'd understood what the consequences might be…that his actions tonight would ultimately shake the very foundations of Middle Earth…

…but he couldn't have known any of that. Nothing else mattered right now, only his relief at having Bilbo in his arms once more. There would be time for the rest later. Time to grieve for Fili…time to re-establish his throne and his allies…time to show Bilbo the home he had known as a child and to rebuild it…to help Kili grieve…and to teach him how to be king…

…time to worry over the bargain that had been struck.

All of that was far away right now, though. Right now, all he wanted to do was rest here with Bilbo…to pretend that he hadn't just sold his soul for him and that they had only happiness to look forward to. For no matter what the consequences might be…no matter how history looked on him in the end…Thorin Oakenshield would never regret what he had done.

XxX

Fili was laid to rest deep beneath the mountain, the Arkenstone resting on his breast. Bard had tried to return the stone to Thorin, but he'd rejected the ancient treasure. He'd lost all desire for it after his nephew's death…and nearly losing Bilbo…so Thorin returned the Arkenstone to the earth in the arms of his beloved sister-son, a reminder to all future kings under the mountain of what the sin of greed can cost.

The funeral was well-attended by their allies who had survived the battle, and all of the companions spoke very highly of their fallen prince…all except Kili, who couldn't bring himself to utter even one word, so great was his sorrow.

Kili had never worn his hair in braids before today, but as he approached the stone coffin where his brother rested, Thorin saw a single braid trailing from behind his left ear. As Kili stood over Fili, struggling with his last goodbye, he leaned down to stroke his golden braids one last time. Then he bent over him and kissed him, whispering something as he did. His final gesture was one none of the dwarves had foreseen.

Seizing the single braid, Kili swiftly drew a dagger from his belt and severed it, kissing the braid before laying it with his brother. There were several murmurs from the assembled dwarves, but Kili paid them no mind as he walked away from the sarcophagus. He disappeared the moment the tomb was sealed.

"What does it mean?" Bilbo asked Thorin later that night when they were alone in the king's chamber. The company had been busy as bees struggling to make their mountain home livable again. Dain had leant many of his own people to the task, but the going was still slow. Thorin barely considered his quarters livable, but Bilbo, used to much simpler lodgings, was perfectly comfortable.

"Hmm?" Thorin asked, glancing up from a parchment he was looking over.

"The braid…what Kili did earlier. The other dwarves seemed a bit bent out of shape over it. What does it mean?"

Thorin was silent for several minutes, mulling over his answer before coming to join Bilbo on the bed.

"The cutting of braids…is a symbol of loss…great loss. Many of us cut a few braids when we were driven from Erebor. But most commonly, as you saw today, it is done at the death of a loved one."

"Then what was all that whispering for?"

"I don't mean blood relatives when I say loved one," Thorin said, meeting the hobbit's inquisitive gaze with a hard one of his own.

"Oh… _oh_ ," Bilbo said softly, his eyes going wide with realization.

"At the death of a family member, you usually just unbraid your hair…and wear it unadorned as a sign of mourning. Braid _cutting_ , though, is normally saved for your partner…your lover…although, it is not entirely unheard of for family members to partake in braid cutting…if they were very close."

"So…were…were Fili and Kili…?"

Thorin shook his head. "I don't know. I have no _wish_ to know. My guilt in this matter is great enough without being the cause of such a breaking…especially when…you and I…"

Bilbo also shook his head, his expression saddened as he leaned across Thorin to kiss him. Briefly, Thorin allowed himself to lean into the embrace.

"It wasn't your fault, Thorin," Bilbo whispered soothingly against his lips. For a moment, the dwarf king drew back, his disagreement plain in his eyes. Rather than argue with his thief, though, he offered him a tired smile, reaching out to tangle his fingers in his soft hair…which had grown out a fair bit in the last year.

"You know…I would have given you mine."

"Given…?" Bilbo murmured, not quite comprehending.

"My braids," Thorin explained, allowing a silken strand of brown hair to slip through his grasp. "If you hadn't…woken up…I would have given them all to you…each one…to rest at your side forever…and gone braidless and unadorned ever after," he said, his hand slipping down from Bilbo's hair to run along the line of his neck and onto his shoulder.

Bilbo wasn't sure if the tears he felt gathering in his eyes were of a joyful nature…at seeing the emotion in his king's eyes and hearing it in his voice…or if they were of pain…at the thought of _not being_ with Thorin…of Thorin being without him. It was a thought he didn't much like to linger on, so he leaned a little further into Thorin's touch.

"That won't happen," Bilbo promised, his promise firm, though his voice trembled with desire as Thorin's hand trailed down his chest…stopping just above where he _really_ wanted that hand to be.

"What won't happen?"

"We won't be apart…not ever," he said, taking Thorin's free hand in his. "We'll walk together from now on…and when the time comes, we'll lay down…side by side…and die together."

"You would…you would stay by my side?" Thorin whispered, his voice nearly breathless as he watched his lover raise the hand he held up to his heart, holding it there.

"Always. It nearly killed me…when you sent me away…that day at the gate. I would not be parted from you…Thorin Oakenshield."

"Nor I from you, Bilbo Baggins," Thorin said, finally drawing the halfling in for another kiss…this one deeper…searching…baring. Bilbo couldn't help the tiny cry that escaped his mouth when Thorin moved from his lips down to his neck. Then, suddenly, Thorin flipped him and Bilbo found himself pinned to the bed, staring up into the dwarf's eyes…eyes that were painted with _want_ …want almost beyond imagining…and it was directed at _him_. Slowly, Thorin lowered his body to his, heat already pressing between them as he brushed his lips against a delicate, pointed ear.

"Is this what you want, my thief?" he whispered against him, tongue darting out to steal another small taste of him. "If it is not, tell me now…or I will not be able to stop myself."

"Oh…hngh…Thorin…" Bilbo groaned, bucking his hips lightly up against the dwarf king's, causing him to cry out. "It's _all_ I want."

"Then you shall have it," Thorin said, gently but insistently pressing a knee between Bilbo's legs. The hobbit gasped, his head falling back against the pillow as he writhed in pleasure.

Thorin's movements were slow and gentle, much more so than was typical for him, but they were both still recovering from injuries. As they moved together, the dwarf lord showed Bilbo a side of himself that rarely ever saw the light of day, even with other lovers he'd had; he showed him tenderness…care…an almost reverent quality as his hands and mouth worshipped him. After all, the king reminded him with every burning caress and gentle thrust…they had nearly lost this…lost each other. They knew they would never waste another opportunity to tell each other how much they were loved…how they wanted and _needed_ each other…and when they lay together afterward, holding each other and sharing sweet kisses, they made each other a promise.

"For all our life…and until death…together shall we be," Thorin said softly, resting his forehead against Bilbo's.

"From now…until the ending of eternity," Bilbo whispered back, pressing a kiss to the dwarf's lips. It was their marriage vow to each other. There would be something more official later on, for everyone to witness, but this was the promise they made to each other…mindless of everything else.

It wasn't until Bilbo had fallen asleep in his arms that Thorin was given a rather unpleasant reminder of what it was that had bought him this happiness, this time to make this promise.

It started as an itching at the back of his neck, then gradually spread until it was a horrible burning pain that consumed his entire head. Unable to take it anymore, Thorin disentangled himself from the hobbit and went to his discarded clothing, retrieving the ring from his cloak and placing it on his finger.

_**Better. Perhaps you'll think twice before ignoring me again, little king.** _

"Ignoring you?" Thorin muttered as he moved out into the living area of their quarters, not wanting to wake Bilbo. "Can't you just speak to me as you like?"

_**Unfortunately, no. I have not that kind of power…yet,**_ the Necromancer said, sounding slightly irked.

"Then how did you before?"

_**You prayed, Thorin. You wished for a miracle. I was the only god who deigned to answer you. That was how I connected to you before. But your desperation has gone now. Our only link is this Ring of Power.** _

"How came you by this?" Thorin asked as he paced the living area, staring at the ring. He knew exactly what it was, of course. Durin's Ring. Tradition held it had come from the elven smiths of old, but Gandalf and Elrond had told him the truth of its making. The old wizard had told him the ring was better lost with his father. But if this ring had last been with his father, then…

_**I came by it…from your father.** _

"What happened to him?!" Thorin demanded, fighting to keep his voice down, though he could feel the anger rising in his chest.

_**Just what will you do if Thrain, son of Thror**_ died _ **in my care? Will you betray me, my puppet? I would remind you I hold the halfling's life in my hands. I gave him life…and I can take it away. So long as you are near him, I possess you both…and I know you cannot bear to be without him. So don't you ever try to run…and don't you**_ ever _ **betray me…or I will take your love away from you.**_

Growling in helpless frustration, Thorin ultimately sank to his knees, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He truly had sold his soul, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was trapped…like a fly in a web.

XxX


	2. Times of Sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks be to all you lovely readers who patron this lil fic. Hope this update came soon enough.

Over the next several months, dwarves flocked back to Erebor in droves. Word was carried on the wind, by the birds and the beasts, that Smaug was destroyed and the goblins were routed. About two months after the battle, Thorin and Bilbo were heading down a corridor when the dwarf king was suddenly tackled from behind. He had Orcrist half out of its scabbard and Bilbo had Sting drawn before they both realized the attacker was giggling. Thorin rested his head on the floor and sheathed his blade, somehow managing to chuckle and sound annoyed all in one breath.

"You'll never behave as befits your station, will you, my sister?"

"Now where would be the fun in that?" a slightly gruff, yet distinctly female voice asked from the pile of dwarf on the floor.

"Put up your sword, my thief, or I shall have to punish you for raising a blade to my sister," Thorin said, hugging the other dwarf before pushing her off him.

"Sister?" the hobbit asked, slowly sheathing Sting, still uncertain.

"Yes," the younger dwarf woman said as she pulled herself to her feet, offering Bilbo her hand. "Dis…daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, if you want the full title."

Bilbo offered the dwarf princess an odd smile as she shook his hand. "I…I believe I can see where Fili and Kili got it from."

"Oh, I hope so. I always tried to make sure this old owl didn't rub off on them too much," she said, helping her brother to his feet. "And _you_ must be the hobbit…the little thief who captured a king."

"I…suppose I am," he said awkwardly, glancing between the two siblings.

"Dis, this is Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, spider stinger, slayer of Azog, and my husband and consort," Thorin introduced.

"I am honored," she said, bowing her head at the neck, though a spark of mischief still remained in her eyes. "Be honored yourself, Master hobbit. Not idly does a king refer to his consort as wife in open conversation, or…in your case, husband, I suppose."

Bilbo blushed at this, barely managing to keep himself from looking away. "I am…honored, of course," he stuttered, and as he struggled for his words, he took a good look at the dwarf woman. Like the few women he'd seen, she had the faint line of a beard along her jaw, and her long brown hair hung unbound and unadorned past her waist, no doubt in memory of her lost son. Interestingly enough, Dis was also taller than her older brother, a good four inches taller.

"So you noticed," she said, seeing him watching her. "Little sister isn't so little."

"I…I certainly didn't-" He really had no idea what he was going to say at this point. All he could see was Dis' grin and his husband's resigned look.

"You probably noticed it with my boys, too. The younger we are, the taller we be, it seems."

"The snake never lets it alone, either," Thorin growled, though his expression had grown softer.

"Someone has to make sure your old stony face hasn't frozen that way, _old owl_ ," the younger dwarf teased.

"It is good you've returned, Sister. It will do Kili good to see you again," Thorin said to her.

At this, Dis' shoulders slumped slightly and the sparkle of mischief in her eyes was replaced with the shine of bittersweetness. "How has my little moon child been?" she asked them.

"Not well," Thorin answered honestly. "When he can be found, he hardly speaks. He doesn't smile or laugh as he used to. It's like he's become a ghost of these halls…along with so many others."

Dis swallowed hard at her brother's words, blue eyes sliding shut as a single tear fought its way past her strong countenance, the loss of her baby descending on her afresh. As she fought for her composure, Thorin placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I am…truly sorry for your loss…my Lady," Bilbo offered, not really knowing what else to say.

Dis looked up at him, the corners of her mouth turning slightly upward, though her eyes were now bloodshot. "Thank you, Master halfling. It pleases me my owl of a brother has found someone so kind to share his bed."

"You _can_ call me Bilbo," he told her.

"Only if you'll drop this 'my Lady' nonsense. I have no use for it. I was a smith's wife and proud to be so," she said, her smile growing a little. "Though…on the subject of wives and partners, Thorin, there is something I wish to show you."

XxX

"So who is she?" Thorin asked his sister as they and Bilbo watched a new group of dwarves being welcomed into the great hall from their own secret little alcove on a higer level from the main floor. Dis had pointed out to them a young woman with strawberry blonde hair dressed mostly in reds among the new company. She was polite, but mostly she seemed to keep to herself.

"She is Risling, daughter of Garin."

"Garin's daughter? But she's so young, hardly more than a child. I thought Garin's woman long past her child-bearing years," Thorin said, remembering his grandfather's old councilor, a dwarf who had been old even at the taking of Erebor.

"Indeed, Garin has been dead these forty years. Risling's birth was a miracle for her mother, whose sons were all lost at the gates of Moria," Dis explained, more for Bilbo's benefit than her brother's. "Their band came to our halls not days after you'd left. Risling has become a good friend of mine."

"So what are you thinking, sister of mine?"

"I _had_ thought…that because you will have no son of your own…that a marriage might be arranged between her and Fili…but then…"

"Kili, then?" Thorin finished. "And why should either of these young ones consent to such an arrangement?"

"See how she goes unbraided, Brother? She is of the proper age to be displaying a wish braid…or courting braids even, is she not?"

Only when Dis pointed this out did he see it: the chunks of hair near the front of Risling's head that were uneven…where braids had recently been cut.

"Oh," he said softly. She was just Kili's age, maybe a little older. To have already suffered that loss…

"What is it?" Bilbo asked, still getting used to the stories a dwarf's hair could tell.

"Do you see…just there…and there? Where her hair has been cut?"

"She's cut her braids," Bilbo whispered, his voice full of pity.

"Yes," Dis said softly. "Like Kili…her hurt is very great."

"I think I would like to see this dwarfling before any decision is made," Thorin said.

"I thought as much. I'll introduce you, but I wish to see my son."

"If you can find him. Even _I_ haven't been able to discover all his hiding places," Thorin warned her.

"I know where he'll be. I know my boy," the bereft mother said quietly. As sure as the rising and setting of the sun, Dis knew where her little moon babe would rest his head.

Kili would be with his brother.

XxX

"Risling? Have you a moment?" Dis asked the young dwarf as they approached. Risling looked up, nodding. Dis stepped aside to reveal Thorin and Bilbo. "I would like you to meet my brother, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, and his consort, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire."

Risling's eyes widened briefly, but then she recovered herself and curtsied. "My Lords."

"Risling, daughter of Garin, I knew your father well. I understand you've suffered a great loss. My condolences."

"Thank you, my Lord," she said, keeping her gaze cast down.

"I am also led to understand you would wed my sister-son…my heir."

"If my Lord and his Lady sister wish it."

"I would like to ask you why. Why should a dwarf maiden seek for a prince who cannot give her his love?"

For a moment, the politeness in Risling's expression shifted to anger. "You assume I seek status…a place in the future king's bed and the chance to bear his heir."

"I _must_ assume these things. Many a maiden before you has done this and many more after you will have designs on my nephew whether you wed him or not. It is not an attitude Kili needs right now and I would prevent further harm from coming to him."

At the insinuation, Risling drew herself up to her full height and met the king's gaze head on. "Twenty-five years, King Under the Mountain…twenty-five years have I walked braidless, and for each February 3rd that passes, I set my hair into courting braids just to cut them again. That is my grief, my King, and I would not have you make light of it. If Prince Kili has no love to give, then he needs one who has no need of it."

"But you are young yet. Why should you bind yourself to such a fate?" Thorin pressed. He recognized the pain in her eyes…the depth of her sorrow…a sorrow he had almost shared in…but he had to be absolutely certain…for Kili's sake.

"They say that we love truly only once in our lives. I have known such a love…and I will _never_ betray it. I seek no fulfillment through the prince…nothing in heart nor mind nor anything earthly. It was simply…that Dis asked for my help. The House of Durin has need of a womb…and I happen to have one I'm not using. Do with it what you will."

Thorin nodded as he continued to survey the young woman. Risling was respectful, yes, but she wasn't going to take an insult lying down. She wasn't going to be trampled. She would keep her head on her shoulders under pressure or in a crisis. Kili needed someone like her…a friend who would put no demands on him, who could help him be strong and find his feet again, and…a little further down the line, someone who could give him children. Dis had chosen well, as always.

Now, the question remained, would Kili agree?

XxX

Ever since they were born, Fili and Kili's mother had called them her little sun child and her little moon child. Fili had been bright and shining like the midsummer sun, which had been rising over Ered Luin as he was born. Dis also liked to say that the pain of it had been a lot _like_ giving birth to the sun.

Kili, on the other hand, had been much simpler, slipping quietly and mischievously into the world, dark as the night and playful as a little forest spirit. These days, though, Kili often found himself thinking his status as the child of the night was more apt than ever. He stayed away from the light, both sunlight and firelight. He preferred the darkness…deep beneath the mountain…the unbroken night of Fili's tomb. Mostly, he just stayed curled up against the large stone casket, Sometimes, he still wept…and other times, he spoke to Fili. Tonight, though, he thought he heard someone else speaking.

"Kili? Kili, my love, I know you're down here. You can't hide from me."

There was definitely someone, but…it sounded like _Mother_. It couldn't be…could it?

_Please, no. I can't face her. Let this be a dream. I can't look her in the face…when you're not here anymore._

Finally, a torch intruded on his darkness and a familiar face was in front of his…Mother…after so many months. Kili didn't even want to think about the wretched sight his poor mother was beholding in the sharp shadows from the torchlight.

"Mother?" he whispered, reaching a hand out to grasp her hair…as if he couldn't quite believe she was real.

"Oh, my boy, my poor little moon child," she soothed, the torch clattering to the stone floor as she pulled Kili into her arms. Kili wrapped his arms around her, clinging for all he was worth as they knelt there beside the sarcophagus.

"Mother, I'm so sorry!" he sobbed into her neck, his heart breaking all over again as he remembered. "Fili…Fili was just trying to protect me."

"Then he died as he would have wished," she continued to soothe, running a gentle hand up and down her grownup son's back. "We can ask no more than that."

Kili had thought he was empty of tears, but seeing his mother again somehow tore the barely scarred wounds open again, leaving them to bleed anew. Kili sobbed brokenly as his mother held him, gently rocking him, tears running down her own face as she ran her fingers through his tangled hair.

"Fili!" he cried over and over again. "Oh, Fili! Fili! What can I do? _Fili!_ "

XxX

Dis didn't make an appearance at supper, which was a disappointment to the members of the original company, as they were all very fond of the youngest of Thrain's children and had been looking forward to greeting her. They all understood, though, that Kili needed his mother.

Bilbo didn't see her until much later in the evening, heading out of the main gate. Curious, the hobbit followed after her, not quite sure how to approach the dwarf princess until she herself gave him the opportunity.

"For a thief, you make a fair amount of noise," she called over her shoulder.

"I can be very stealthy when I want to," he protested, only slightly miffed.

"No doubt. Come. Walk with me," she said, waiting a moment for him to come to her side before continuing along through the open courtyard, the moon shining down on the wintry landscape.

"Have you had anything to eat?" he asked her.

"No. It's very kind of you to think of it, but I don't feel hungry just now."

"Ah…and…how's Kili?"

"I did manage to coax him up out of the crypt. He's sleeping in his own room now. I did have some broth sent up for him. I'll need to be there when he wakes to be sure he eats, because he's _going_ to, whether he likes it or not."

"He hasn't done much since it happened. I don't know that he sleeps much either," Bilbo said quietly.

"If the state I found him in is anything to judge by, then no. He wasn't much more than a pale skeleton. It would…hurt his brother…to see him like this."

"And you believe…Risling will be able to help?"

"I believe she can do him some good, yes. A boy cannot depend on his mother forever. I knew…long ago…that my sons would never love any woman the way they loved each other. I knew that some sort of arrangement would have to be made. Risling seemed to come to me like a miracle…but a miracle at a terrible price."

"What happened to her…if I may ask?" Bilbo asked, still trying to be polite.

"Thorin has explained to you the custom of braid-cutting, of course. Well…Risling lost her lover when she was very young."

"Orcs?" Bilbo asked, remembering that their conflicts with the foul creatures had been particularly brutal.

"No…men," Dis said quietly, glancing over at him. "Cruel men. Life is not kind to a people in exile. Risling trusts them little. It was a great sacrifice for her to come and live so near them."

"Oh, dear…the poor child," Bilbo said, not feeling it was his place to ask what exactly had happened.

"Enough of the past, Master halfling," she said, trying to smile as she shook herself. "How are things here? How has the old owl been? Are the two of you getting along well?"

"Very well, thank you. We're happy. Though…if I may ask, why do you call him an owl?" Bilbo asked. He could understand sibling ribbing, but an owl? It seemed so strange. Was it some sort of dwarf thing?

"Oh, that. Well…I was little more than a babe myself when Smaug came, only ten. I remember waking up at night when I was little…seeing Thorin on watch. He always reminded me of an owl…eyes wide, never blinking…staring off into the east at something only he could see. So that's what I called him. Used to really annoy him, actually," she said, coming to a stop and turning to look at Bilbo. "You know…he seems happier to me."

"Does he?"

"Yes. Thorin has never been content. He's always been restless, eager to return here. But now he seems…truly happy…like he's finally found something he's been missing."

"Well…the battle's won," Bilbo said, purposefully not looking at Dis. "He has everything he's ever wanted."

"No. It's more than that. My brother now has something he didn't _realize_ he wanted…didn't realize was the only thing truly worth having. I must thank you, Bilbo Baggins. You have done the impossible. You've given my brother peace."

"Have I?" Bilbo asked, his tone uncertain. Thorin was happier these days, that would he grant…more at peace with the world and with himself. Bilbo was happy Thorin was happy…only…there were times he wasn't sure…

"What do you mean?" Dis asked, reading the hesitancy in him.

"There are times I catch him looking at me when he thinks I haven't noticed…or he's just staring off at nothing…and he looks so sad. At first, I thought it was just…just the boys, but now I…I'm just not sure."

"Have you asked him about it?"

Bilbo shrugged. "What would I say?"

"That you're worried about him. He will listen to you. He loves you."

"Maybe…" Bilbo mumbled, half to Dis and half to himself. "Maybe…"

XxX

Thorin actually found himself chuckling when he saw Bilbo head off after his sister. While it would be good for the two of them to get to know each other, he supposed he should probably be afraid, as well. The stories Dis could tell his new little husband…

Before he could put anymore thought into the matter, though, the itching at the back of his neck started up again and he reached into the pouch where he kept the ring, slipping it on his finger.

_**I suppose I could thank you, little king. I was able to pull out of Dol Guldur in time thanks to your warning of the wizard's plan.** _

_And I suppose I could say you're welcome,_ Thorin returned. It was still difficult for him to speak in thought to the Necromancer, but he was managing. It probably would've been easier if he just kept the ring on at all times, but he really just couldn't bear the thought of that. Just because he was bound to this master didn't mean he had to take it lying down.

_**Making plans for the future, are we? I suppose the little ones would make a handsome couple. Will the ring go to young Kili next?** _

_Not so long as I'm living,_ Thorin replied, warning without openly threatening.

_**Which may well be a good long while with a Ring of Power in your hands. Considering the future, though, I need you to station a garrison near Dol Guldur.** _

_For what purpose? I was under the impression you'd abandoned it._

_**Are you questioning me, little Oakenshield?** _

_Never, my Master. It is simple curiosity._

_**The fortress may yet prove useful to me, but I must know if the White Council still has designs on it…or if they believe they truly have driven me out.** _

_It shall be done,_ the dwarf king reassured him before removing the ring and cutting off the voices in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, before y'all flip your shit, let me reassure you by saying that Risling is not a love interest. She has another purpose to serve. While the main focus is ultimately BagginShield, Kili has a great deal to do with events, as well, so we'll see more of him before we get into the serious shit with the Necromancer. Still working for everyone, though? Anyone have anything they want to see happen whilst I'm still in the planning stages?


	3. The World Once Known

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, gentle readers, I hope you enjoy Durin-torture, cuz this fic is gonna be rife with it.

Kili had grown up with loss. He had seen it in the eyes of everyone he loved. In Fili and their mother's eyes, he had seen the loss of his father, a dwarf he'd grown up hearing about, but had never known. Vili, son of Valin had died before his youngest son was born. In his uncle's eyes, he had seen the loss of home…of kin and of birthright. He had witnessed the suffering of his people…but had never truly been touched by it. He had never lost someone he loved, never known the home that had been taken from his kin. He had grown up with the love of his brother, mother, and uncle, and he had been at home in Ered Luin, the place where he'd been born.

Fili's death was the first true sorrow the young dwarf prince had experienced, and he knew it showed. His mother's arrival in Erebor had eased his suffering a little, but even her prompting him back into the waking world couldn't make this world of the living seem any brighter. Even in the light of day, the world was cold and dark, haunted by the shades of past joy. He could see one even now, as he moved down a mostly empty corridor.

A head of strawberry-blonde hair filled his vision. The familiar color was so vivid, he couldn't help but reach for it…the very first color he recalled seeing above his cradle…his earliest memory…the first thing he'd ever reached for…and had reached for all his life…his brother's golden hair…

…but then his fingers twined in real locks and he found the beautiful sight not to be an illusion, but something very _real_ …real and alive. Kili's heart stopped and his breath caught in his throat.

"Fili…?" he whispered, his mouth dry.

Then the person turned and the illusion was instantly shattered. This wasn't his brother. He'd never even seen this person before. It was a young woman. In fact, she looked nothing like Fili, it was just…that _hair_.

"Excuse me?" she said softly, pulling away from his touch. Immediately, he stumbled back, half-collapsing against the corridor wall.

"I…I do apologize," he said, nearly choking on the words. For a moment, he had been so _sure_.

"Who are you?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as she studied him.

"N-nobody," he mumbled, trying to keep a lid on the harsh howl of grief that clawed at his throat and itched behind his eyes. He couldn't keep the breakdown back for long. He didn't see the realization in the young woman's eyes as he turned from her, struggling to stand.

"You are…Prince Kili, aren't you," she said, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. He quickly shrugged her off, though, barely managing to keep his feet as he started to move away.

"Please…please, forgive me…my lady…excuse me…"

"Are you well, my Lord?" she called after him. "You look to need a healer."

"I…I will be fine," he lied. "Excuse me."

Risling, daughter of Garin was left standing alone in the corridor looking worried and when Kili had gotten himself a few corridors away, he let his body slump against the stone wall and collapse, boneless, to the floor. Then he curled in on himself and allowed the tears to have their way with him once more.

XxX

Thorin was in council with Dis, Bilbo, and Balin when a flurry of blonde hair and red skirts burst into the chamber with a guard close behind her.

"I apologize for the interruption, my king, but the lady said it was a matter of life and death."

"Risling," Dis said, her voice filled with concern as she rose from where she'd been leaning against a chair. "What's the matter? You look a fright."

"Dis…my friend…why didn't you tell me we looked alike?" the young woman demanded, her breathing ragged as she clutched at the dwarf princess' fur vest.

"Who, girl?"

"Myself…and the dead prince."

"Because you don't," Dis said firmly, placing her hands on Risling's wrists. "I would know if you resembled my own child. What's put such a thought in your head?"

"I…I came across Prince Kili just now. He touched my hair…and called me Fili. But then he turned to look at me…and realized his mistake. Mahal preserve me: the sight of me nearly broke him."

Dis looked thoughtful for several minutes. "Yes," she began after a time, taking a strand of Risling's unbraided hair between her fingers. "I can see where a mistake could be made. Your hair color is very much alike."

"The poor lad," Balin bemoaned. "He is still half-gone with his grief."

"Can we really do this to the poor boy? Ask him to marry me…when every time he looks at me, he'll see his brother?" she asked. She had known him even in the moment she'd asked his name, for she'd recognized her own pain in his eyes. Though…even if Kili wasn't ready for what they were proposing…perhaps she should stick with this, rather than let them choose another girl. After all, who could understand better than her?

"Kili has his duty…as do we all," Thorin said, though his voice was heavy with his own sorrow for his nephew. "I would not force this choice on him…but that I agree with my sister in her belief that you will be good for him. Neither would I force our will on _you_ , though, Risling, Garin's daughter. Make a decision such as this, if not out of love, then at least out of your own desire…not out of loyalty to a friend. Is it truly your wish to be wed to Kili, son of Vili?"

Taking a step back from Dis, Risling slowly nodded. "It is. The decision, as you say, is not made out of love, but out of compassion. If I can ease his suffering…even a little…as there was no one to ease mine…then it will have been worth it."

Thorin nodded his head solemnly. "I can accept that. We will speak with Kili tonight."

XxX

"Well…at least I find you in your own chamber this time," his mother's voice sounded in his ears as Kili groggily pulled himself out of a half-sleep, half-trance. After his breakdown in the corridor, he'd barely managed to drag himself back to his quarters. He'd been laying there in the dark ever since.

"What day is it?" he mumbled listlessly. He couldn't be sure if it had been an hour or a month since his little fiasco.

"It's only been a few hours since your last foray. It's near suppertime now. I think you startled poor Risling," Dis said as she sat down on his bed, coaxing him into a sitting position.

"I…I'm sorry. It's just…I saw…"

"I know, little moon. She told me what happened. Risling is a friend of mine. She understands. She's lost some loved ones herself. Are you planning on coming to supper tonight?" she asked him.

He hadn't been, but the tone of her voice was so achingly insistent, he couldn't help but answer, "If it makes you happy."

"It does, Kili," she said, a sad smile gracing her face as she laid a hand against his cheek. Then she stood, moving to light a few candles in order to give them a little more light. "You can meet Risling properly. She's really very nice."

"I…imagine so," he said, his voice slightly stilted. He wasn't completely certain what his mother was getting at.

"I had hoped you two would meet under more fortuitous circumstances. Risling is very kind and she has a good head on her shoulders…a healer by trade. She comes from an old Erebor family."

Slowly, Kili's thoughts started to connect, battling against the haze that had so often filled his mind these last months. "Mother…are you trying to tell me something?"

Again, Dis sat down on her son's bed, laying a hand on his knee as she looked him in the eye. "Kili…dear boy…I know things were different before…before your brother's death." She had to stop at this, as they both needed a moment to wince at her words. "But with Fili gone…it is you who will take Thorin's place when the time comes. Surely you understand there are certain…obligations you must fulfill as the heir apparent."

"Mother?"

"Kili…I asked Risling to accompany me to Erebor…in the hope that the two of you might wed."

For a long while, Kili just stared at his mother, not sure if he was understanding her. Even back before the battle, marriage had been a very distant dream. He'd once thought that someday, maybe…he would meet some other dwarf he clicked with and they could settle down. Fili had been the only one required to marry a woman. His own options had been as endless as the stars in the night sky. Only now, he realized, he would _have_ to marry a woman, regardless of what he might want. It was _his_ charge to continue the line of Durin…and if he'd had trouble picturing himself as married, he found it even harder to picture himself as a father. If he couldn't even protect Fili, a full-fledged warrior who could take care of himself, how was he to protect a tiny, helpless babe? At that, how was he supposed to protect a whole _kingdom?_ How could he be trusted…when he had let the dearest thing in his world slip through his fingers?

"Kili? Kili, love? Are you angry with me?" he heard his mother asking. The thought that she could even think that was what finally snapped the young prince from his trance.

"No…no, Mother, of _course_ not," he said, leaning forward to rest a hand on top of hers.

"I know Thorin was always displeased I never raised you boys as he thought princes should be raised. We've lived simply…our little family. But…things are different now. We have responsibilities."

"It…it isn't that. I'd had no one in mind to marry…hadn't even had a mind _to_ marry. It's just…I cannot conceive of a woman who would want me as I am now. What do I have to offer this woman? There is _nothing_ inside me, Mother…just… _nothing!_ Whatever it was that…that made me _me_ …it went away with Fili. I don't have anything _left_ to give to anyone else!" he cried out, half-collapsing into his mother's arms as a fresh wave of anguish suddenly overtook him.

"Shh, shh," Dis soothed her son. "I know. I know it hurts. I felt that way after your father died…like the world had no right to go on turning. Sometimes I just wanted to take your brother up and walk off a cliff…so that we could all be together. But then _you_ were born…and I saw your smile…saw how your tiny hands reached out to grasp my breast…how much you _needed_ me. I saw Fili holding you…watched him hold you up as you learned to walk…and I knew my life wasn't over. Your time isn't done yet, Kili. There is still joy in your future," she insisted as she held him tight.

Kili didn't say it aloud, but all he could think was… _you can't know that._

"Maybe it isn't light he needs, Dis," a new voice sounded from the doorway. "Maybe it's a little bit of darkness."

The mother and her son looked up then to see Risling standing there. When they noticed, she bowed very low.

"Please…forgive me…for disturbing you. I know this was to keep until later…but I thought it best to come now."

Dis offered her friend a weary smile, nodding for her to stand. "Well…now that we're all here…Kili, this is Risling, daughter of Garin. And Risling, this is Kili, son of Vili."

Nodding, Kili made a feeble attempt to wipe the tears from his face. "My…my lady…I'm sorry…for what happened earlier," he mumbled, trying very hard not to stare at her hair.

"No…it's all right. No harm done," the young woman said, taking a few hesitant steps into the room.

"What did…you mean? What you said before?" Dis asked her, a little uncertain now she thought about it.

"It…it's difficult to explain, my friend. There are…different kinds of hurt," Risling tried to elucidate, but really wasn't sure how to make it any clearer to someone who didn't know. Kili…he would understand. Of that, she felt certain.

"Well…perhaps I ought to just let you two talk for a bit. We'll expect you at supper," Dis said before rising from Kili's bed and heading out of the room, shutting the door behind her. For a long while after, the two young dwarves just stayed where they were, not quite staring at each other, but not exactly avoiding eye contact, either.

"So…" Kili began, finally breaking the silence, "my mother tells me they want us to wed."

"It seems that way, yes."

"Is it…something _you_ want…Risling?" he asked, testing her name out for the first time.

"What I want matters little. What I _truly want_ was forfeit a long time ago."

"But…you…surely they've told you there's something _wrong_ with me," Kili pressed. "Why should you want a prince who cannot care for you as a husband should care for his wife? What have you done to deserve such a fate?"

Sighing, Risling took a few steps closer, so that she was standing beside the bed. "It is well, my prince, for I have no love to give to you, either," she said, fingering the short tufts of hair where she'd recently cut her braids, showing him without needing to say anything. Slowly, Kili nodded.

"You've lost someone, too," he said softly.

"More than someone. Zel was my life. She was the air I breathed. When she was killed, I lost my heart," she said, coming to sit beside him on the bed. Kili didn't really care this Zel was apparently a woman. All he could see was that in Risling's eyes, he had found the same pain he lived with every waking moment.

"They all tell you it's going to get better, don't they," she said, to which Kili nodded, captivated by the kindred spirit he could see in this woman. "But they don't understand. They can never. They have not had the center of their whole world torn away from them."

"Yes," Kili whispered, feeling his heart break all over again…but also yield to something new…some strange, twisted kind of comfort.

"Not even Dis can understand. She's a dear friend and I care about her, but she does not know. She had time to spend with her husband, but you and I, my prince…we know what it feels like to have that one precious life taken away all too soon…too cruelly."

"You…can call me Kili, you know," he said, reaching a hand forward to take hers.

"As you wish, my pri- Kili," she corrected herself with a self-deprecating smile, squeezing his hand.

"And this…this is okay with you?" he asked her, feeling for the first time that maybe he _could_ marry Risling…that he could live with her and at least be content, if not happy. Neither of them was looking to be happy, though. That had passed them by.

"No one…understood what I went through when I lost Zel. I'm a healer. If I can help even one person through this experience, then the pain I suffered will have meant something. Because…you know…even though they tell you it will hurt less with time…in some ways…it hurts more. You shouldn't have to go through that alone. No one should."

"I don't…want you to be tied to me, though…if it isn't what you want. If you…meet someone new…you should be free to make your own choice," he insisted. Risling only smiled sadly.

"While I thank you for the sentiment, that will never happen. I will never love anyone else the way I love Zel. Though, if you insist on this, you should have the same right, as well…to put me aside…if you should find someone you love."

Kili offered her a tiny, bitter smile. "I think you know what I'll say to that, but I appreciate it."

For a while after, the two dwarves sat together, just talking, occasionally crying, bound together by their grief. Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest of bonds, but a bond is a bond, nonetheless.

XxX

Several of the companions were forever telling Bilbo they didn't see the difference between living in Bag End and living in Erebor, apart from the fact that the latter was much roomier. The only similarity Bilbo himself could see, though, was that both dwellings happened to be underground. He was happy being with Thorin; truly, he was. He wouldn't trade what he had for the world…but there were still things he missed from his old life. Chief among them was his garden. Erebor wasn't exactly an ideal location for growing things. What produce the dwarves needed was got through trade. The desolation within and without of the Lonely Mountain seemed doubly so to the hobbit…until one day when Thorin suddenly blindfolded him and began to lead him through the seeming endless passageways of their mountain home.

He gave up asking or guessing where they were headed after about fifteen minutes, still not familiar enough with Erebor to know just from direction. He was certain he hadn't seen all of the mountain kingdom, though, so Thorin could easily surprise him with whatever destination he had in mind. By the time they finally came to a stop, the poor hobbit was all manner of turned about.

"So do you feel up to telling me where I've been led, husband of mine?" Bilbo nearly growled, impatient enough as it was.

"I could do that…or I could just show you." Thorin's voice was soft in his ear as the blindfold was lifted from his eyes.

Bilbo blinked rapidly, his eyes assaulted by an odd mix of light and shadow. Then the strange picture came together as a coherent whole and he realized just what it was he was looking at.

It was a stone chamber underground, but it wasn't lit by torchlight, as most of Erebor was. Sunlight filtered in through faults in the rock overhead. More enticing than the sunlight, though, was the earth beneath it, and the scraggly, wild plant life that grew from it. To most, it would seem to be just another room, but to Bilbo, it was a small patch of paradise.

"A small stretch of life that escaped the dragon's desolation. _I_ didn't even know this was here. Bofur found it when he was exploring. What do you think?" Thorin asked him. "Will this serve you as a bit of earth…for a garden?"

"What do I think?" Bilbo repeated, not turning to look at Thorin as he moved further into the room. As he moved, he dug his toes into the earth, reveling in the feel of it beneath his feet. "It's a little coarse and it may be difficult to keep things watered. Nothing at all like what I'm used to working with," he said, his tone a shade of critical that would have done any "respectable hobbit" proud. When he _did_ turn to look at his husband, he found Thorin's expression to be a little…nervous. But then a wide grin split his face. "It's perfect."

For a moment, the mighty dwarf king looked confused, but then a slow note of relief blossomed across his face and a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. Bilbo laughed as he ran back to Thorin, flinging his arms around him.

"Oh, Thorin…thank you," Bilbo spoke the words against the dwarf's chest, nearly in tears. "You've made me the happiest hobbit in all Middle-Earth."

"You mean you weren't already?" Thorin teased him, leaning down for a kiss. When they separated a while after, but still holding each other, he continued with, "I saw your longing…for the beauty of green earth…and I could do nothing about it. I, with the riches of the ages at my disposal…and I could not make you happy."

Bilbo looked up at Thorin at this…and saw that same strange, far off look in his eyes…that there was something that saddened him…but that he could also never truly be sad again. For a moment, he seriously considered just asking him what the matter was…but he let the moment go and ended up resting his head back against Thorin's chest.

"You make me happy, Thorin Oakenshield…you do nothing but…well…except when you drive me mad, of course," he said, pressing a heated kiss against the small slip of bare skin he could reach through the king's fine clothing. Then he slipped out of his arms and fled several feet back into the cave, glancing back at him with a mischievous grin on his face. Finally, the odd look in the dwarf's eyes faded away, replaced with a knowing smirk.

"Drive you mad? Well, there's something I _can_ do. Shall we seed your new garden, master burglar?" he asked, slipping off his fur coat before pursuing the hobbit.

After a rousing game of chase, the pair found themselves half-naked on the ground, with Thorin lying on his back as Bilbo straddled his hips. They had their moments of wild passion, but this coupling was gentle, slow and direct with each movement. They rocked together silently beneath the dappled light from overhead, the only sounds the slip of slick skin and the occasional gasp. When Thorin felt himself near, he allowed his head to fall back in a moment of pure bliss, a sharp intake of breath marking the moment of his climax. Then, through half-open eyes, he looked up to see Bilbo frozen in an instant of exquisite ecstasy, his mouth hanging wide open in a silent cry as his release poured out of him. Once he had spent, Bilbo collapsed down on top of him, boneless and breathless.

"Well, that's just not fair," he heard the halfling mutter against his neck. "Making me happy and driving me mad all at the same time. How's a hobbit to know up from down?"

"I could certainly keep you down a while longer if that is your wish…help you sort things out," the dwarf teased. Bilbo looked up at him, grinning as he shook his head. Then he leaned in a little to kiss his chin, enjoying the feel of hair and skin against his lips.

Gradually, Thorin rolled over onto his side, being gentle as he pulled Bilbo with him. Then, holding him securely against his chest, he asked, "Do you know the stories of the Maker of the dwarves, my thief?"

"Not so much, no," Bilbo said, an odd little smile on his face as he looked up at his husband once more.

"Mm…we call him Mahal. You might have heard his elvish name, Aule, but Mahal is what his own people call him. He is the master of the pillars that shape this world…of earth and stone."

"So of course he _would_ make the dwarves," Bilbo said, continuing to smile, even though he was a little confused. "Why are you telling me about this now?"

"Because Mahal has a wife," Thorin answered, his small smile warm as he traced a hand down Bilbo's back. "Most call her Yavanna, but she is Kementari to us…Queen of the Earth. She is mistress of all green life that springs from the earth…and together the two of them shape the world."

"I like that," Bilbo said softly, feeling the strength of Thorin's body against his and the warmth of the embracing earth beneath them. "The earth and the plants together…"

"Mahal is one of the strongest of the Valar. His is the very strength of the mountain root…but his strength is not for the sake of gain or greed…it is for the sake of his love," the dwarf king narrated, placing a tender kiss against Bilbo's lips.

"Kementari," the hobbit whispered back, his warm breath tickling along his husband's lips.

"Yes. The most magnificent of his works were for love of her…earth for her beauty to spring from…and the sun and the moon to bring light to her creations after Morgoth had broken the first world. The world benefited from his works, of course, but it was not Arda that he strove so hard for as he created. It was her…his Kementari…his love. I don't believe I ever understood the meaning of their story…not until I knew you."

"I see," Bilbo said, running loving fingers through his king's silver-streaked hair. "You are my Mahal…and I am your Kementari."

"Something of that nature, yes," Thorin said, amazed that he of all people could come up with such a fanciful notion…but he found the words to be true, nonetheless. "My strength…everything I do…it is done in your name…for your sake. I want you to know that."

"I think I know it already," Bilbo said, resisting the urge to chuckle, as he could see how serious Thorin was, "but I certainly won't object anytime you feel like reminding me. I don't think you need a story to know I'm yours. It works both ways."

"No," the dwarf said, resting his forehead against Bilbo's. "You've turned aside enough blades for me…even when I didn't deserve it. I will never doubt the love of your heart again…not ever."

XxX

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Radagast the Brown was no halfwit. Even though the dark presence had withdrawn from Mirkwood, its taint hadn't vanished entirely. He could still sense a restlessness in the animals and the water didn't seem to taste quite right. Peace had returned for the moment, with the routing of the goblins, but it really was only for the moment, regardless of what Saruman would have had them believe. Something was simmering…just beneath the surface…something waiting to burst.

The brown wizard knew he must have looked all manner of foolish to his white counterpart when they had made their move against Dol Guldur and found nothing there. Gandalf had still believed, though, for which Radagast was grateful. He and Saruman had never gotten on, never…not even back in the days of their youth, when they'd had different names. It had only gotten worse when they'd been practically forced on this charge together. Ever Gandalf seemed to be the only one who truly understood. He would have very much liked to speak with his brother wizard over the lingering darkness in his home, but Gandalf was currently away in the west, seeking through the dwindling clans of the Dunedain for a last hope. It had always been the grey wizard's belief that a descendent of Elendil still survived in the world and could unite the kingdoms of men against their enemy. Radagast had never been as certain himself, never having been particularly fond of men (or elves or dwarves, for that matter), but if Gandalf could trust in him, then he could certainly return the favor now.

Radagast made a point of returning to the abandoned fortress often, just to be certain the Necromancer had really departed. On this particular day, though, he found himself not alone. A band of dwarves had made camp in the forest just a little ways beyond the bridge. The wizard was just about to hail them when he happened to overhear two of the dwarf warriors on patrol speaking.

"But Dwalin, why is it so-"

"Hush, lad. It's not our place to be questioning him now. If he thinks it's important, then it must be. Personally, I wouldn't like it very much if elves were to take an interest in the place again."

"But they're our friends now," the younger dwarf protested. "Thorin said-"

"I know what he said, but I'd still take even the flimsiest dwarf shoemaker over an elf warrior any day. Besides…Thorin's been…different…since the battle. Even _I_ can't figure out why."

"Maybe…maybe Fili's death is what did it. They took it so hard."

"Aye, that likely had a hand in it, but it's still…something's off. I've known him all my life…and that dwarf don't bow to no one. Now…I look at him and I see something different in his eyes…like he _is_ bowing…but that he _chooses_ to."

"Perhaps…being a king is just like that?" the younger suggested. "I can't imagine what a weight it must be."

"Maybe…" the elder, Dwalin, said as he turned to glance at the ruins of Dol Guldur. "Elves I can understand…wouldn't want them spreading anymore than necessary…but wizards? I don't see why Thorin would be interested in them. It's just…not our place."

Radagast took several steps back into the forest upon hearing this. They were on the lookout for _him?_ Why? Why should dwarves care if _anyone_ took up interest in the ruined fortress? As the wizard backtracked his steps toward his own dwelling, a chill stole across his heart.

What could possibly be going on in the mind of the newly crowned King Under the Mountain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May have taken a few tiny liberties with Silmarillion lore…and will probably continue to do so. If that bothers you then…fuck, what the hell are you doing reading fan fiction?


	4. Time and Season

It took Bilbo some time to gather all the seeds he wanted. The men of Esgaroth were still recovering from their battle with Smaug and had none to trade for. A good portion came from the wood elves, and still more came from Beorn when Bilbo, Dis, Bofur, and Bombur went on a mission to visit the skin-changer. The majority, though, came from Gloin's wife, Bila, who had brought several packets with her from Ered Luin. Thanks to Bofur's excellent timing in finding the little plot, though, Bilbo was able to get his seeds together in enough time in order to be able to get it ready for planting before spring was too old. Whenever Bilbo wasn't with Thorin, he could usually be found working in his little patch of earth. Today the hobbit was working with a plot of rose seedlings when he happened to hear a new voice at the entrance to his cave.

"You don't look like much."

Bilbo looked up to see a young dwarf standing there looking in on him. Like Kili, he barely had the beginnings of a beard and he had no braids to speak of. He'd seen the young one around and had even been introduced once, but even without any of that, the dwarf would have been fairly easy to identify by merit of his ruddy brown hair. He was Gimli, Gloin's son.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, master hobbit. I said you don't look like you have much to you. Thorin Oakenshield is a great warrior, one who deserves a mate even half as great as he is. Some of the other dwarves wonder what you did to make him choose you."

"Well, Gimli, I don't know how it's done among dwarves, but where I come from, such a decision is made out of love."

"And you think someone like Thorin could love _you?_ Perhaps hobbits are the offspring of wizards," the young dwarf suggested.

"If I had any such power I would use it to cure the land about this peak. As it stands, my only power is with these seeds," Bilbo said, pointedly ignoring Gimli's first question, as it was something he often wondered himself.

"And over Thorin," Gimli reminded him.

"You question what I have sworn before Mahal and before my fathers? Do you call me a liar, Gloin's son?" Thorin asked as he appeared behind the impertinent boy. Gimli jumped several feet in the air and spun around, his face white.

"M-my Lord," he mumbled, bowing low. "My apologies. I…I didn't see-"

"So that makes it all right for you to make a mockery of my wedding vow? Well, Gimli, you have your father's mouth; I'll grant you that. Would you like to make that challenge to my face, stripling?"

"N-no, Thorin. I would never-"

"Then think twice the next time you challenge my bond with Master Baggins. There are many who would forget it was he who took down the Defiler, _he_ who first faced the dragon alone. Be not the one who makes the mistake of forcing him to remind you, because I will allow it. You will face a much harsher punishment the next time you feel the need to question what we have sworn to each other."

Gimli quickly scuttled away. Thorin shook his head as he moved into the cave, returning Bilbo's grin with one of his own.

"Pay the boy no mind. He's still sore he wasn't permitted to join us on the quest. I would have been happy to have him, but it was Gloin's choice…and with every word he speaks, he proves how unready he is, even now."

"Well, he's only a boy," Bilbo said quietly, going back to his work.

"How are your little gems doing today?" Thorin asked, taking a seat in the dirt and leaning against the cave wall.

"Very well, if I do say so myself. Gimli's poor manners may have wilted the poor dears a little, though."

"Then I suppose I shall have to order the lad to stay well clear from now on. Or I could just have him thrown in the dungeon for a few nights. That lesson ought to stick," Thorin joked.

"And what would that say about the King Under the Mountain? That he chains up little dwarflings for amusement? People certainly might talk at that."

"If _that_ punishment seems harsh to you, my love, you have a great deal to learn about dwarves."

"I don't doubt it," Bilbo said, finishing up with the tender shoots he'd been working on and coming to sit beside Thorin, leaning his head against Thorin's shoulder. "Risling, for instance…"

"What of her?"

"I've heard her speak of the woman she lost…Zel…but the elders seem to almost…shun her for it…and yet there seems to be no problem with us being married. I've seen several other male partners since coming here. Is there something I'm not seeing?"

"Ah," Thorin began slowly. "That is a rather…unfortunate side effect of there being few women among us. As you've seen, love matches between men are perfectly acceptable, as there would be little other option. It's different with women, though. It is viewed as…unseemly…by the older generations…for a woman to take a womb away from our people by giving her interests to another woman. If humans hadn't taken out their fury on them, other dwarves almost certainly would have."

"That's awful," Bilbo said, his voice laced with horror as he drew a little ways back from his husband.

"It is. I'm ashamed to say I agreed with them…until Dis displayed interest in a woman."

"Dis?"

"It was a very long time ago. She was but twenty-five at the time…still a child…and it should have been treated as a child's infatuation, but our father treated it as a crime. The girl…Threya…she was only a little older…he banished her family from our group. I do not know what became of them."

"Oh…Thorin…"

"I know," the king said, his shoulders hunching at the memory of old pain. "I love my sister. If there was one thing in my treatment of her I could do over…I'd…I would…"

"Thorin…" Bilbo repeated, seeing how much his recoil had hurt the dwarf. Again, he leaned his body against his, wrapping his arms around him. "You were only young yourself in those days…with so much weight on your shoulders. I imagine…the only thing you can do now is not to condone such a thing in your sight."

Thorin leaned a little further into the hobbit's embrace, resting…safe for the moment…safe from himself. "Perhaps…sometimes…sometimes I wish I could find Threya for her."

"So…her marriage to Vili…"

"No, it was nothing like that…not arranged, if that's what you mean. That lad was her best friend, and she loved him in her way. She was shattered when he died…but do I think Threya might have been the one for her…if they'd been given a chance to grow? Yes. I saw my sister's pain…and I did nothing. Why did I do nothing, Bilbo?"

"You cannot help what you were born to. At least…you seemed to see you were doing her wrong, even then, and Dis doesn't seem to begrudge you what is past. She has nothing but love and admiration for you. Besides…perhaps it _is_ within your power to find Threya now…or at least…discover what happened to her."

"Maybe…maybe so," Thorin said, a strange kind of hope sounding in his voice as he sat up. For a moment, he looked thoughtful, but then he got to his feet and offered his hand to his hobbit husband. "Well, my thief, you've given me a great deal to think about. I'd say your plot's had enough work for the day, though. They will be expecting us at supper."

Bilbo knew that, in some small way, Thorin was deflecting him, knowing food was something the hobbit could never turn down. There was still something weighing on his mind, but Bilbo decided to let it go, taking the dwarf's offered hand. Hopefully, Thorin would come to him when he was ready.

XxX

Kili and Risling were married near the end of May, at a time when Oin had read favorable signs for them. As was tradition, the pair forged each other chains of gold to exchange, but there was also something different done for their wedding. Dwarf couples were typically adorned with jewels, their own version of flowers, but as Bilbo's garden was in full bloom at the time, he insisted on weaving them crowns of forget-me-nots to wear. Traditional wedding flowers in the Shire would have been roses, but those were also a symbol of love, and he knew that was not the reason for this wedding. The crowns were for the people they truly wished to have at their sides.

"I wasn't able to have flowers at my own wedding and I should have liked to," Bilbo explained to the two young dwarves as he crowned them. "I'd like to see _someone_ married with them."

"Then we shall indulge you, Bilbo," Risling said, giving her soon to be in-law a kiss on the cheek.

The wedding was well attended by envoys from the Iron Hills, Mirkwood, and the men of Esgaroth, all anxious to see the pair who would one day rule under the mountain. It was as lovely a ceremony as anyone could have asked for. Kili and Risling gave their vows to each other and the celebrating lasted well into the night. The newly weds retired early, though, as was expected of them, in order to consummate their marriage. Both slightly tipsy under the influence of elvish wine, they struggled to help each other get undressed. Something changed between them, though, when Risling was naked on their bed and Kili was down to his breeches, just staring at her. The teasing, joking mood died and they both remembered where they were…about to consummate…with ghosts still standing at their shoulders.

"Risling…" the young prince started, not really sure what to say…not even sure he _could_ explain himself.

As he struggled for words, a vague light of understanding shone through the young woman's hazy eyes. "Kili…are you a virgin?" she asked gently, sitting up in bed.

"Yes," he said, his voice quiet as he looked away from her. "You aren't?"

Risling shook her head. "Zel and I took to bed much earlier than we should have…for which I'm grateful now, but we were shamed for it when people found out. Kili…they say this night must be for consummation, but if you aren't ready for this, it's no one's business but our own. If they ask me, I'll tell them the future King Under the Mountain is a virile beast who gave me a night of bursting passion, but if you're not ready, I'm just as content to sit here and talk…just as we always do."

"Really?" Kili asked, relief lighting his eyes as he sat down beside her.

"Absolutely," she said, laying back down and stretching out on the bed as if this were any other regular night. She was just as comfortable naked as she was clothed.

"I just…I was thinking about him today," he said, feeling a little happy to see the understanding smile on her face. Most dwarves wouldn't be pleased to hear their husband had been thinking about his brother while in the process of marrying them.

"I know. Zel was with me today, too. I think you can imagine how badly I wish she were in your place," she said, her own eyes shining and misty. Kili laughed softly, feeling his own eyes starting to itch. He didn't cry as much as he used to, but there were still times when he missed Fili so badly he could hardly breathe. Tonight was such a night, and as he lay down beside Risling, his small chuckles began to turn into quiet tears. Tears starting to trickle from her own eyes, his new wife reached out for him, wrapping her arms around his trembling shoulders and pulling him flush against her breast, where he rested his head and just cried.

"It's not fair," he whispered several hours later, when his body was empty of tears and Risling's breasts were soaking wet with them. His own hair was damp with her tears. "How can I go on living…how can I be happy…when Fili isn't here anymore?"

"Because he died to save you. That's why you _must_ go on living…no matter how much it hurts. Otherwise you disgrace his sacrifice; you spit on his memory."

Kili stiffened slightly, hearing something different in Risling's voice. She spoke as if she _knew_. They had spoken of many things these last few months…of happy times…but there was one thing they had never talked about…as if ignoring the ghosts of their loved ones would somehow allow them to live in peace.

"How did Zel die?" Kili made himself ask, looking up at Risling. He knew the young dwarf had been killed by men, but beyond that, he knew nothing. He had not pressed Risling on that matter, just as she hadn't asked him about the battle, but now…for some reason…he felt he had to know. Somehow…they had to lay these ghosts to rest.

Risling stared at him for several long moments, an odd look of half-horror, half-longing frozen on her face. Then, looking away from him, she began to run her fingers through his hair as she told her story.

"Our band was on the wandering path at the time. We had come to find work in a border town somewhere in Gondor. Zel was a goldsmith, if you remember, and some of her customers…took a liking to us. This group of men…they knew we were together. Whenever I went to see her, they would heckle us to…to give them a show. Zel would have chased them off, but they still gave her business…and we needed the money, but…one night…I was heading home from the market. I usually waited for Zel to close up shop and we would go home together…but she'd told me she'd just had a lot of last minute jobs come through. She was going to be working very late that night…so she'd sent me on ahead…said I could bring back supper. Mahal, if only I hadn't left her…"

Briefly, Risling's tale ground to a halt as she took a moment to compose herself. Now it was Kili's turn to hold her as tears trickled down her face. Despite the tears, though, she forced herself to keep going.

"They set upon me halfway between the town and home…those men. I had only a few knives on me at the time and…I wasn't much of a fighter in those days anyway. They overpowered me. I was drugged…tied down. The first was about to take me when, suddenly…Zel was there. I'll never know how she knew to come to me. She couldn't have heard me screaming. _No one_ could have…not out there…"

"She knew you needed her," Kili suggested, being as comforting as he knew how to be.

"Maybe…and a lot of good it did her. There were eight of them. She only managed to take down about half of them before they overpowered her…took her axe…bound her. They said they were going to make her _watch_ …but she argued…offered herself up instead…said I'd never last them…and I couldn't protest…couldn't beg for her. I could barely speak…I couldn't do _anything_ … _Oh, Zel!_ " she cried out, her voice so full of pain, it stung Kili to hear it. He held her tightly against him while she sobbed into his chest.

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to," he soothed her. "I think I can guess the rest."

"N-no," she sniffled. "I…I want…someone…to know. I've never told anyone…everything. They…they…they all took her…then killed her with my knives."

"Oh…Risling…"

"They said they were going to blame it on me…my word against theirs, but…just as they were about to turn on me…Zel's brother came. He and his friends were able to fight them off…and when he saw what they'd done to his sister…they killed all of them. Zel's sacrifice…bought them time to rescue me. So yes…I do know what it means to have someone give their life for you," she finished, as if she'd somehow read his earlier thought.

"Risling…Risling…I'm so sorry," he said, gently kissing the top of her head. She had been there for him these past months, put up with all the twists his grief had taken, understood him in a way none of the others had been able to. Surely he could do this for her now.

"It…it's all right," she said, slowly starting to compose herself. "No…no, actually, it isn't. We both know it isn't, but I suppose that doesn't matter so much. We're here now…trying to put our ghosts to rest…which leads me to ask…what happened to Fili? I know you've said…he was trying to protect you…but what actually happened?"

Like Risling had been before, Kili was silent for several minutes, mulling it over. Deep down, he had known it would come to this when he'd asked Risling for her story, but that didn't mean he was anymore ready to speak of that day than he had been when it had first happened. He wasn't ready…but he knew he had to, just the same. If he didn't do this now, he knew he never would again. Something more in him would die if he let this moment go…and he owed Fili so much more than that…to let him die a second time…

"We were fighting alongside Thorin in that battle. We'd managed to turn the tide briefly…but then we came face to face with Azog. Fili and I stepped up to defend Thorin. He tried to stop us, but he was already wounded. We _had_ to protect him. At first, we managed to keep the orc off balance…but then his mace struck me…broke my armor. I was pierced with about three of its spikes. I went down…and I could hear Fili screaming my name. Then he was there…right in front of me…protecting me…like he always did…and he smiled at me…right before he turned back to Azog. They fought…I was bleeding badly and…I fell. Then I saw him gut Fili with his metal hand…just dig straight in…and spill everything. I remember screaming…I tried to crawl to him…I couldn't. I kept crying…screaming…I thought I heard Thorin once. Then someone was shoving us onto Beorn's back. I held him…while Beorn carried us. He was barely breathing…

" _Kili…Ki…I'm…sorry…Kili…I…I lov…" he tries so hard to speak, gurgling as blood dribbles from his mouth. Kili can't bear to look down and see the gaping wound in his stomach._

"They put me to sleep…the elf healers," Kili continued, struggling to shake off the memory. "I guess they thought…I would hurt myself…screaming for him…trying to get to him. I wasn't there when he…when he passed. I was still under…and when I woke…he was gone," he said, his voice pitching slightly higher as he struggled against a fresh wave of grief.

"I can't even imagine it. To not be there…to not even have that last moment. I suppose…in some ways…your hurt is even greater than mine."

"Not greater…just different," he said. "I can't imagine what it would have been like…to watch Fili killed with one of _my_ weapons."

"I couldn't…carry them after that. I did try…to take my life with them…but they took them away from me."

"And I'm glad they did," Kili said, looking down into her eyes.

"And I'm glad your companions didn't let you go either," she returned. "I entered into this thinking to ease your pain a little…but you have eased mine, too…something I didn't think was possible."

"I know what you mean," he said, stroking back a strand of her hair. "Maybe now…they will let us rest."

The newly weds slept curled around each other that night…a sleep such as neither of them had slept in a long time. It wasn't until several months later that they finally did consummate their marriage…a joining of awkward limbs, uneasy explanations, and gentle looks. At least one good thing did come out of it, though.

XxX

"So how long has this sickness been going on, lassie?" Oin asked Risling as he pressed the fingers of one hand against her stomach, keeping his horn pressed against his ear in order to hear her answer.

"A few weeks now," she answered, "but only a few times a week." Being a healer herself, Risling had her suspicions, but she didn't dare make her own diagnosis, fearing that she might misinterpret the situation, reading her own hopes into her bouts of illness.

"And your monthly? How long has it been since your last?" he asked her with a knowing look in his eyes.

"I…I can't really remember. It must have been more than a month, though. I…I did have my suspicions, but I…I suppose I wanted a second opinion," she explained, her hands clenching into fists.

"Well, m'Lady, opinion confirmed," he said, giving her stomach a gentle pat. "Around the two month mark'd be my guess. Your little one'll come to us sometime in the spring."

"Oh," Risling murmured, a tiny smile turning up the corners of her mouth as her hands joined the older dwarf's on her stomach. She hadn't been certain how she would feel when this moment finally came. Proud that she was doing her duty, certainly…what she _hadn't_ expected to feel was the small spark of joy…the flicker of tender love in a heart that had long been cold.

"Have you told the lad yet?"

"No…no, I…wanted to be certain…before I said anything."

"You had best hurry, then, if you want to be the one to tell him. Even stones have ears, after all," he said, quoting the old saying about how quickly rumors spread.

"Yes…you're right. Thank you very much, Master Oin," she said nodding her head respectfully as she rose from the chair she'd been sitting in and hurried out of the healer's chamber, her thoughts in an absolute flurry.

Certainly, Kili would be pleased that their…slightly sad attempt at procreation had yielded results…but would he be _happy?_ Would he just feel relieved…or might he truly feel joy at this news? Like her, would he feel this…tiny flicker of flame…a whisper of love after being so long in the dark?

She had several hours to ponder the mystery, because it took her about that long to find him. She checked all the usual places…even down in the crypt (though she was thankful not to find him there)…but the new princess ultimately found her husband at the weapons range, working with his bow and arrows. When she saw him firing arrow after arrow and hitting his targets each time, Risling felt another unlooked for spark of happiness. She knew Kili hadn't touched his bow since the battle.

Risling waited off to the side until Kili noticed her. When he did, he quickly went to retrieve his arrows and moved off the range in order to meet her.

"How have you been? You haven't been sick today, have you?" he asked her, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"No, but…I do have something to tell you."

"Yes?"

"Well…Kili…I've spoken with Oin and…it looks like…in the spring…you will be a father," she finally managed to choke out, holding his gaze with a nervous one of her own.

For a moment, it didn't quite seem to sink in. He looked confused…but then the confusion started to sort itself out and a look of awe spread across his face.

"Oh…Risling. You mean…you mean you are…with child?"

"Yes," she said, still holding his gaze.

"That…that's wonderful news," he said, smiling as he pulled her into his arms. "We must tell the others. We shall all feast tonight."

As he drew back from her and she looked into his eyes once again, her fears were immediately soothed, for in them, she could see the same spark of happiness…the same lovely flame that had only recently flickered awake in her own heart.

Love.

XxX

Just as Kili predicted, the announcement that Risling was pregnant with the next heir inspired an impromptu celebration. The small population of women all gathered around the young princess, giddy with excitement, as the new princeling would be the first baby born in Erebor in nearly two hundred years. Most of them had at least one story to tell about their own pregnancies, about birth and child raising.

"You know, for the first five years, I absolutely could not get Gimli to keep his clothes on. I had to get Gloin to start tying him into them," Bila recounted, sending them all into fits of giggling.

"Mum, you promised you wouldn't talk about that anymore," the young dwarf half-growled at his mother.

"Oh, how can I help it? You were so adorable."

"I am _not_ adorable! Father, can't you make her stop?" Gimli pleaded with Gloin.

"Lad, if I could stop your mother doing anything, Smaug wouldn't have taken the mountain in the first place," Gloin responded, raising his mug of ale to his wife and downing nearly the whole thing.

"Oh, aye," Dis agreed, taking a long swill from her own drink. "Put up a legion of breeding dwarves against the next dragon. Then we'll see who comes out on top. No dragon is worse than my little Kili. You know, it always drove Fili crazy the way he used to-"

The little terror in question wandered even further away from the great hall as the stories about his older brother started to come out. They were definitely not stories he wanted to hear on a night like this. Kili slowly nursed his own mug as he headed out into the cool night air.

Risling hadn't been wrong in what she'd seen. Kili did already feel love for this child…but he felt a number of other things, as well…like fresh guilt for Fili's death. Certainly, they lived in peace _now_ …but what if this child needed protecting? What could he do? He wasn't _ready_ for this!

"Now what's the proud father-to-be doing out here in the dark?" Thorin's voice suddenly sounded behind him. Then Kili felt an arm sling around his shoulders, and only when he looked up to see the smile on his uncle's face did Thorin see the uncertainty in his. "Kili? What's wrong?"

"How can I do this, Uncle? How can I have one so helpless…depend completely on _me?_ I couldn't…even protect Fili. I couldn't even protect what I loved the most. I'm afraid of…failing this child."

"Kili…you did not fail your brother. It was I who failed the two of you…leading you into that battle. You are brave and strong, and you fight for what you love. Your son will be proud of you…and you and Risling will not be alone. We will _all_ care for this child, protect him…until he is strong enough to wield an axe, at any rate. Then, I'm certain, he'll be just like his father, ready to charge into a fight."

"And wind up dead…just like his uncle…when his father cannot save him? How can you _ever_ be ready…to be a father?" Kili wondered aloud, quickly knocking back the rest of his ale.

"You can't," Thorin answered simply. "You can only prepare and hope for the best. I wasn't ready to be king…after my father and grandfather were killed. Nor was I ready to be father to you and Fili…when they brought your own father home dead. I wasn't ready…but there was no other choice. I was needed…just as you will be needed. Your boy will need a father. You cannot abandon him just because you feel you aren't fit. Whether you feel you are ready or not…he needs you…and you must step up. Besides…and I can promise you this…once you see him for the first time, you won't be able to do anything else."

"You think so?"

"I know it. You'll see. Now come back inside. Give your woman a kiss and tell her how happy you are. Remember, she's just as scared as you are."

When Thorin saw the barest hint of a smile flicker in Kili's eyes, he smiled himself…and if he felt a slight itching at the back of his skull, he thought little of it. After all, he had been getting better at ignoring the summons of his master for longer periods. Perhaps he could last a few more drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, Erebor home life mostly set up. I think we'll probably start majorly time jumping here in another chapter or two.


	5. Strengthen My Heart

Kili didn't know when he had heard such screaming. Not even in the midst of battle had he heard cries like this. Risling was screaming as if she were being murdered, and every time the door to their chamber opened to let out one dwarf with an armload of bloody bed clothing or admit another with a pot of hot water, her tormented voice followed soon after.

" _KILI!_ I swear on my father's bones, I will _slay_ you when I get out of this bed!"

Thorin, Bilbo, and the other dwarves all chuckled to see Kili's face blanch at every new threat.

"Maybe…maybe we really _should_ just put the women up against the next dragon," he haltingly suggested at one point.

"That'll be a strong little lad…to give her so much trouble," Balin said.

"Will…will she be all right?" the young prince asked the others. "Is this normal? It sounds _awful_."

Once again, they all had a good chuckle, attempting to keep the atmosphere calm for the anxious father-to-be. While it was true that Risling's labor was proving difficult, it hadn't yet reached a point where there was anything to worry about.

"Oh, laddie, if this new princeling gives our Risling even _half_ as much trouble as you gave your mum," the elder dwarf started, giving Kili a good thump on the shoulder.

"Yes, it is normal," Thorin was the one to finally give his nephew a straight answer. "We men earn our strength through feets of arms…women earn it through childbirth. I swear, your mother was like a warg the morning she gave birth to Fili. They had to tie her down."

Quite suddenly, the hideous screaming fell silent…only to be replaced with the cries of a newborn moments later.

"He…he's here?" Kili asked, feeling both relieved and newly afraid as he glanced around at all the others.

Several tense minutes followed before the door opened and Dis stuck her head out.

"Ah…Thorin…you might want to see this."

"What? What is it?" Kili demanded, trying to steal a glance around his uncle's broad shoulders as the older dwarf moved into the chamber.

"Oh," Thorin said after several moments. " _Oh_."

"What's going on? What's wrong? Are they all right?" Kili continued to demand, finally fighting his way through the other dwarves.

"Well…nothing's _wrong_ , as such," Thorin said, his back still to Kili. His voice was a little higher than normal, painted with surprise. "Just…unexpected."

"What. Is. It?"

Slowly, Thorin turned to face his nephew. In his arms, he held a tiny bundle of white cloth that wiggled and cried out. "You have a daughter, Kili."

Though the young dwarf still looked shocked, Thorin approached him anyway, passing him the little girl. Instantly, his arms formed a protective cradle around her. Really, the child could have been an elf for all Kili cared. It was just as Thorin had said. One look and he was all hers.

Tiny, barely-open green eyes peeked up at him out of the folds of the blanket. Her face was framed by tiny round ears and centered with a little button nose. From what he could see, she had the beginnings of golden peach fuzz on her small head. As he held her, her cries changed into the sweet burble of baby song. She opened and closed her tiny rosebud mouth several times as she stared up at him. Then, when she wriggled a tiny, perfect hand free of the tightly wrapped blanket and waved it around in front of her face, Kili could literally swear he felt his heart melting. Nothing he'd ever experienced before could have prepared him for seeing his little girl for the first time. She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever beheld…perfect. She was everything that was good in the world…and she was _his_ …she had come from _him_ …somehow…despite all his failings. Kili honestly could have gone on just looking at her for days…but of course the world just had to go on turning.

"A princess is born! A princess is born!" the cries went up from all the dwarves present, carried out into the corridors and beyond by his friends.

"Princess," Kili said softly, cradling the baby girl all the closer.

"Never before has the firstborn of the royal line been a girl child," Oin's voice broke into Kili's wonderment rather harshly. "It is an omen."

"What sort of omen? Good or bad?" Thorin pressed.

"I…cannot say," the older dwarf said, shaking his head. "It is strange."

Kili turned away from Oin slightly, as if his daughter might somehow hear and be hurt by his words. "Girl or no, she is _my_ child. She is the most lovely little girl Erebor has ever seen and I _will not_ have you look down on her."

"Who's looking down, lad? I just said it was a little odd. Besides, you are young yet. There are years for sons."

If he were honest, Kili didn't care about sons in that moment. All he cared about was the tiny baby in his arms. She was everything he could have ever wished for.

" _Your_ child, husband? Aren't you forgetting someone?"

The weakened sound of Risling's voice once again drew Kili back into the chamber and his eyes immediately fell on his wife, whom the other healers had just finished seeing to. Risling lay very still on their bed, her eyes only half open.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he sat down beside her.

"Just tired, you ungrateful little prince under the mountain. Your daughter is as strong as any man and more besides. I could almost swear there'd been a little warg cub in there, clawing to get out.

For several minutes, the pair just huddled together, their daughter cradled between them, watching every little move she made. This time it was Bofur who drew them back to the present.

"Well, you two? What's the wee princess' name?"

Briefly, they glanced at each other. They'd talked, but they hadn't really settled on anything. Again they turned their eyes down to their little girl. As he continued to look, Kili felt something uncertain beginning to stir within him. Golden hair…green eyes…round little ears…strong as any man? Slowly, he turned to look at Risling.

"Can…can we call her Fili?"

For a moment, uncertainty flickered in the young woman's eyes, but then she really seemed to take into account the hope in her husband's eyes, the conviction that this was the right thing to do. He saw something in their little girl, something that pressed him to choose that name, despite the fact that it might still cause him pain. Smiling, she nodded.

"Of course we can. Fili it is. Our little Fili girl," she declared, leaning a little closer against the two of them and pressing a kiss to the baby's plump cheek.

"Princess Fili," Dis said softly, chuckling, even though her eyes had gone slightly misty. "Kili, don't you think it's time little Fili had her first meal?"

Blinking in confusion for several moments, Kili suddenly realized what she meant. Blushing sheepishly, he passed Fili to her mother, laying her gently upon Risling's still round stomach so that she had access to her breasts. Risling wrapped her arms around Fili on instinct and the baby girl immediately latched on to a swollen nipple, suckling hungrily.

"All right, I'd say this little family's very worn out by now. Time for all nosy dwarves and hobbits to clear out," Dis announced, starting to shepherd the company out of the chamber. Ultimately, only Thorin remained behind. Dis quickly stuck her head back in. "You, too, owl king."

Thorin chuckled in a somewhat self-deprecating manner. Lingering only a moment longer, he moved closer to his nephew and niece, reaching down to stroke the downy fuzz atop his grand niece's head.

"Fili would be proud," he said before quickly ducking out along with the others. Smiling, the pair glanced at each other briefly before turning their attention back to their baby daughter.

"She's so beautiful," Kili said, leaning in to kiss the top of Fili's little head.

"Like you said…the most lovely little girl Erebor has ever seen," Risling said, smiling fondly.

_Don't be scared, my little Fili. I promise I will never let anything harm you,_ he swore to her silently. _I won't make any mistakes this time._

XxX

Without a doubt, Kili was the most doting father the Lonely Mountain had ever seen. He could hardly be seen outside of the company of his little daughter…even in places where it wasn't necessarily appropriate for her to be. One day when Kili was sparring with his uncle down on the weapons range, Risling was watching the match, holding the sleeping dwarfling in her arms. Somewhere in the middle of the match, Fili woke up.

Most children would have been frightened by the clashing of the blades. Not so with little Fili. When she saw the flash of the dancing weapons, she immediately began to squeal with delight, wriggling in her mother's arms and reaching for the pretty sight.

Unused to hearing sounds of _joy_ during swordplay, both royal dwarves froze in place, slowly turning to look at the baby.

"What's got you so wound up, little girl?" Kili asked as he moved toward his family. It didn't take him long to realize she was reacting to the twin swords he was carrying. They were the only things of his brother's he'd kept with him. The rest of Fili's considerable weapon store was being kept in storage. Traditionally, he would have been buried with them, but Kili had fought that decision for reasons he chose not to reveal…and now his daughter was reaching with glee toward her namesake's swords.

Being careful to keep the sharp edge of the blade away from her tiny hands, Kili held one of the swords up to her, allowing her to see her reflection in its polished, silvery surface. Cooing sweetly, she reached out to touch the blade.

"Well, that's…different," Thorin said as he came to join them.

"Not _so_ different. I knew a dwarf once who had her love of weapons…though she dealt in gold," Risling said, not needing to say whom she spoke of. "Besides, I would not have it any other way but that my daughter be able to handle a sword. I would have her able to protect herself."

"Able to handle, yes. Dis can cross blades with the best of them. What I was speaking of, though…is the interest."

"What troubles you so, uncle?" Kili asked, not taking his eyes off Fili as she marveled at her father's shiny toy. "She's only a babe. There's no telling _what_ will hold her interest."

"I suppose…"

The interest didn't seem to stop there, though. One time when Kili had her down at the range with him, a place he took her more and more often, she actually got into his spare arrows while his back was turned to take a shot.

He'd been absolutely positive he'd had her properly secured in her carrier and she couldn't go anywhere, but his little Fili was learning to crawl and no wrap made by modern dwarf could hold her. When Kili turned to check on her, he found her sitting by his quiver, an arrowhead stuck right in her mouth.

"Fili, no!" he shouted, racing to pluck the arrow from her, but before he could do anything, she took the dangerous weapon from her mouth all on her own. Instead of the screams of pain and blood streaming from her mouth the prince had expected, Fili just smiled up at her father. Then she began to experimentally gum the shaft of the arrow.

"Muh, muh, muh," she burbled sweetly all the while. Breathing a sigh of relief over the sheer dumb luck of the situation, Kili quickly whisked the arrow from Fili, which the little princess didn't like one bit. She sobbed disconsolately all the way back up to the great hall. Kili never mentioned the incident to anyone and was quite pleased to pretend nothing had happened…but the image never really left his mind. At every major moment of his daughter's life, up until the moment of his death, he would always remember the sight of little Fili with an arrow in her mouth.

The baby princess' taste in chew toys didn't fail to catch the notice of the other dwarves, either. One evening, when Master Dwalin had had a long day and entered the great hall looking for nothing more than a hot mug of grog and a shank of beef, he found himself under fire once again, even in the safety of his own home.

The warrior dwarf had set his two axes beside him, and it wasn't long at all before one of them started to thump against the bench, moving as if under its own power. Dwalin looked down to see Fili, her small body curled around the backend of the axe head and her mouth slobbering all over the haft. By some miracle, she hadn't gone for the newly sharpened end of the axe head.

"Oi! Bairn!" he snapped at her, picking up the axe and shaking gently in an effort to dislodge her. "That's _not_ a toy! Leave off!"

Fili held on, though, as if nothing in the world could possibly be more beautiful than this wondrous new thing she'd found…and if Dwalin shook any harder, he knew he risked hurting the little girl. Despite his gruff attitude, he cared about Fili just as much as all the others. It was almost fitting she'd taken hold of the axe he'd named Keeper.

"Can't ye keep control of your whelp, young badger?" Dwalin growled at the dwarfling's father. At the sound of a voice that was meant to be menacing, little Fili just giggled.

"Whelp? Don't you have any more respect for your princess than that, Mister Dwalin?" the younger dwarf teased, informing him in no uncertain terms that Fili was his problem to solve now. That had been the unspoken law of the mountain ever since Fili had become capable of motoring about on all fours. Whomever she gravitated to had the honor of wrangling her…and she tended to gravitate to those with nice shiny weapons for her to play with, such as Dwalin. He had once found her curled around his war hammer, just as fast asleep as if she'd been cuddling a stuffed toy.

Sighing in resignation, Dwalin reached down to pat the baby girl's head. This was one enemy even _he_ was not mighty enough to defeat.

"A word of advice then, little ankle biter. What you're not willing to let go…no one is going to take from ye," he said, the expression on his face almost fond. It was the impetus behind naming his two axes Grasper and Keeper…and the little princess already seemed to understand the lesson quite well. She gripped the haft of the bladed weapon in tight fists, almost as if she meant to lift the heavy weapon herself. Only it wasn't the axe she lifted; it was, in fact, her own self.

Nearly every breath in the vicinity of the dwarfling caught at the sight. Fili was making another try at finding her feet. Standing she could manage, but walking still eluded her. After several minutes of bated silence, Kili stood from his place at his table and moved a little closer to his daughter so she could see him properly.

"Come on, my girl. Come to me," he encouraged, holding his arms out for her. "If you can't learn to walk, you'll never be able to pick up that axe by yourself. Come on, my darling."

With a look of determination that was nearly comical on her pudgy face, Fili finally let go of the axe and took a few faltering steps…one foot in front of the other, looking like she might topple over any minute. The little girl took ten steps before finally tumbling forward. She didn't quite make it to Kili's arms, but he quickly swooped in to catch her before she could fall, swinging her high into the air and spinning her around, his eyes bright with pride. It was to be known thereafter that Fili, daughter of Kili, had learned to walk off the haft of an axe.

It wasn't until Fili's third birthday that the dwarves of Erebor were forced to admit they were doomed. Prior to that, many of them had tried to pass off the young girl's love of weaponry as a passing infant fancy that she would eventually grow out of. Bofur didn't see that, though. Like her father and Dwalin, Bofur could see the pure joy in her eyes when she looked on a blade or a bow, or any other kind of weapon. Such happiness should not be thought of as fleeting…so Bofur decided to speed up the process of helping the rest of the dwarves realize that.

Though Bofur had taken up his original trade of mining once again, he had not wholly forgotten his long years as a toymaker. In making toys for Fili, he had tried to stick with more feminine things like dolls, but he'd stopped when it became plain that the little girl had absolutely no interest in them. On the third anniversary of her birth, among the other gifts of dolls, fine clothing, and jewelry, Bofur presented the little princess with a toy sword and shield. Even though the gifts were highly inappropriate, there wasn't a soul present whose heart didn't melt at the way the girl's face lit up.

"There ye are, lassie. Now you won't be needing to go after your papa's toys."

Fili immediately threw her arms around the older dwarf's legs, snuggling as close to him as she possibly could.

"Tank you," she mumbled into the rough cloth of his trousers. Bofur reached down to pick her up, smiling as he held her close.

"You're very welcome, little miss."

The miner didn't fail to notice the grateful looks Kili and Risling cast him. It had taken an act like this to break the hesitant mold surrounding Fili's interest in fighting. Most boys her age already had toy weapons of their own. Why should Fili be denied that?

XxX

One of the many qualities that dwarves praised in Risling, daughter of Garin, was that she was levelheaded. In most situations, she could be reasonable and collected. There was one subject, though, that tended to send the future queen into fits of irrational behavior.

The subject of humans.

Certainly, Risling understood that the men of Esgaroth had stood beside the dwarves of Erebor and the Iron Hills and been their allies in the Battle of Five Armies, but this fact didn't make her any happier when Bard had led a group of them to the ruined city of Dale in order to re-colonize it and bring back the prosperity of old. By necessity, of course, there were always meetings with the men of the nearby city, negotiating trade and the like, and as the future rulers, Kili and Risling were required to be a part of these talks. Risling attended without complaint, but she could never bring herself to be anything more than cool and stiff toward their supposed allies, so she left the talking to others.

At today's meeting, the young dwarf found her attention divided between the negotiating and a gaggle of children playing just outside the conference chamber. She could _hear_ Thorin discussing what was an appropriate amount of processed emerald to offer in trade for a supply of tomatoes, but her _eyes_ were focused on her daughter and her little group of friends.

Some of the men of the delegation had brought their sons with them on this trip, so there were three little human boys running around with the group of dwarflings, playing some kind of tag game. Most of Fili's friends were boys, to be sure; that wasn't the issue. The issue was that _her child_ was playing with human children…and even children so young she did not trust not to harm her daughter in some way…and unfortunately, she turned out to be right.

Fili had her eyes hidden, and she seemed to be counting, but while she wasn't looking, one of the little human boys came up behind her and yanked sharply on her golden curls. As Risling shot to her feet, Fili howled in both pain and fury. Then she turned on the boy, who was sneering at her, clearly expecting her to start crying and run away. Fili did no such thing. Her tiny, sweet face going red with anger, the five-year-old delivered a harsh blow to her attacker's face, knocking him off his feet. Both Risling and Kili watched the scene unfold as they raced from the chamber. Once he was down, Fili started to kick the little boy in the stomach, punctuating each move with a shout.

" _Why. Did. You._ _ **Do. That?!**_ " she shouted. "I wasn' chasin' you! I wasn' even done countin'!"

"Girls can't play tag," the boy coughed, blood dribbling down his front from his nose. "You're s'ppose ta play with dolls and have _tea parties_ and other _stupid stuff!_ " he shouted at her.

" _Tha's not_ _ **fair!**_ " Fili screamed, continuing her assault.

"Stop it!" he shouted at her. "Stop hitting me!"

"Should'a thought 'bout that…'fore you _pulled_ _my hair!_ "

"Fili, stop! Stop it!" Kili scolded her as Risling scooped her up, inadvertently saving the boy further injury. "He's had enough. Leave him be."

"But he pulled my hair," the little princess whined miserably, struggling hard against the tears that wanted to escape. She wouldn't give her enemy the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"So you hit him? Kicked him? I think one punch would have been sufficient."

"He did it when I wasn' lookin'," she growled. "Uncle Dwa'in says tha's what a _coward_ does!" she insisted, coward being the most insulting word she knew. "Wouldn'a cared if it was a fair fight."

"Shh," Risling soothed, treating Fili as if she were frightened, not angry. "Those boys won't hurt you anymore."

"Mm-mm," Fili agreed, struggling to get out of her mother's arms, eager to jump back into the fray. Frightened, the little boy jumped up and ran to his father, whom he saw coming out of the conference chamber with all the others.

"Daddy! She kicked me! And punched me in the face!" he sobbed, burying his face in his father's legs. The man shook his head, sighing in disappointment.

"Well, you shouldn't have pulled her hair, boy. Don't think she won't fight back just because she's a girl. I expected better behavior from you today. You'll be getting a thrashing tonight."

"But…but…"

"No arguments. You've been taught how to behave. I do apologize for my son," he said to the others as he picked the boy up. "He is still very young."

"Of course," Balin said, not giving Risling the chance to lash out. "I believe it would be best if we adjourned for the evening meal. It has been a long day and we are all very tired and on edge. Thorin?" the elder dwarf asked his king, though he shot a warning look to Risling.

"Certainly. The rest of the talks are best saved for the morrow, I think. We shall adjourn to the great hall," the dwarf king said, glancing at Kili before he and Bilbo began to lead the way to the main area, the others quickly following. Only Kili and Risling remained behind with Fili.

"I don't want her playing with them," Risling insisted right away. "Not ever. I don't want her anywhere _near_ them."

"These people are our friends and allies," Kili said. "We have nothing to fear from them. It was only a little boy's careless mistake. I would say _he_ was punished more than our little warg."

"Only because we have made certain Fili knows how to defend herself. What happens when the next careless boy's dagger is not a wooden toy?" she hissed.

"Risling," he began calmly. "These are _not_ the men who took Zel away from you. Those beasts are long dead. Do not pin the sins of the past on innocent men."

"Do not speak her name," Risling snarled right back. "What do _you_ know of the cruelty of men? They are all alike. They will hurt our daughter if we give them the chance."

"I don't believe that. You are allowing your grief to drive your actions."

"And it will do so until I _die!_ I hate men as _you_ hate orcs, husband. I hate them…and I will _never_ forgive them!" she said, turning on her heels to head to their chamber, Fili still in her arms.

"Wife," he said, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps you are right. I would argue these are completely different cases, but I'm not certain if even _I_ would believe my own words. If you want to let your anger drive you, so be it, but I will not have Fili inherit our hate. Besides, she hasn't yet eaten this evening. She's done nothing to warrant you putting her to bed without supper."

For a moment, Risling positively _boiled_ with rage, but she finally nodded her assent, holding Fili out for Kili to take. Frightened by the anger she felt from her mother, Fili gladly reached out her arms for her father, snuggling gratefully up against him when he finally had her in his arms.

"Fine, but I will be informed if she leaves your side even once, so don't allow that. Do _not_ let them touch her," Risling warned before disappearing down one of the tunnels.

"Papa? Why is Mama so angry?" Fili sniffled, still struggling not to cry. "Did _I_ do somethin' wrong?"

"No, dear heart, of _course_ you didn't. You did nothing wrong at all…except maybe a lack of restraint in doling out punishment, perhaps some slightly more judicious choices are called for in the future. Only…your mama is still very sad and hurt. A long time ago…some very cruel men hurt her."

"They pulled her hair?" Fili asked, her green eyes wide and almost painfully innocent.

Kili chuckled quietly, pain gripping at his own heart…pain for his friend and wife. If only Risling's troubles were so small. The only answer he gave his little daughter was, "They hurt her. She's still afraid to trust these men."

"Maybe she's right," Fili suggested, anger clouding her small features as her eyes grew even redder with tears she refused to shed.

"No, Fili, no. You mustn't think that way. The boy who pulled your hair is only one child. They're not all like that. These people are our friends…just like Ari and Zevi are your friends. We must be able to forgive our friends the little mistakes. Besides, I know you got along well with Bain."

"Well…yeah," she admitted, smiling through her not-quite-tears. "He was fun."

"See? You can still be friends with him. They're not all like the other boy. You don't have to hold back your tears, either. You've been hurt; you can cry if you need to," he encouraged her. Fili swiped feebly at her eyes.

"But I…I don't want 'em to see me cryin'. Tha's _weak_ ," she insisted petulantly, yet another word that had come to be insulting in her book through her time spent with her 'Uncle Dwa'in.'

"Then we don't have to go into the hall yet. We'll wait until you've finished, my little one," Kili reassured her. Smiling gratefully up at her father, Fili buried her face in his chest and cried, cried until she was quite empty…and just as Kili had promised, he didn't stir one step from his spot. He just held her close, stroking her hair and back until her trembling and tiny sobs had finally subsided. When she was ready, she looked up at him again and her father offered her a comforting smile as he began to wipe the salty tear tracks from her face.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"What about Mama? She needs to eat, too, right? She'll be hungry…and she needs to be strong…for my li'l brother."

"That's right," Kili said. They had just recently learned Risling was again with child. The young dwarf hadn't started to show yet, but they had still sat down with Fili and had a talk with her, explaining the situation. Already, she was very eager to be a big sister. When he could bear the thought, Kili sometimes found himself thinking his own brother must have been like this when Dis had announced she was pregnant with her second child. It seemed the Filis of the family were just destined to be protective older siblings. "Don't worry, big sister. I'll have something sent up to her. I doubt your mama wants to see me right now."

"Can…can _I_ take somethin' up to her? Mead? I don' want Mama to be sad anymore."

Kili laughed. "Of course you can, little scamp, but we do need to get you fed first, otherwise your mama will _still_ be angry at me."

No doubt Kili's lesson about making and keeping friends was a good one for the little princess to learn, but his wife wasn't entirely unjustified in her fears. The one foolish human child had already harmed their daughter in more ways than anyone could realize.

XxX

It was common knowledge that dwarves were very resistant to pretty much all kinds of disease. Unlike the elves, though, who simply could not sicken, there were exceptions to the rules with dwarves…such as the very old and the very young.

It began when Bifur rushed into a council meeting, holding what looked to be an unconscious Fili. His face was white as a sheet and his normally hard eyes were wide with panic. Kili, Risling, Thorin, Bilbo, and Dis all rushed over to him, demanding to know what had happened.

"She and the boys were playing…and she just collapsed," Thorin translated the dwarf's grunted and broken Khuzdul for his husband.

"She's burning up with fever," Risling declared shrilly once she'd rested a hand on her daughter's forehead. Just then, Fili awoke, her gaze glassy and unfocused.

"Mama? Papa?" she called out, her voice weak and shaky.

"We're right here, darling," Kili said, very slowly taking his little girl from Bifur's arms.

"Papa…I don't feel good," she groaned, curling up against her father, as if he could make the icky feelings go away just by holding her.

"Don't worry, my little one. Everything's going to be all right," Kili reassured her, brushing sweat-soaked curls back from her clammy forehead. "We'll get you into bed…and we'll get you feeling better. Don't you worry."

"Send for Oin," Thorin ordered someone. "He will attend the princess in her parents' chamber."

As the council chamber became a flurry of activity, Fili suddenly leaned away from her father, hanging her head out over the floor and violently depositing her lunch all over the stone.

Oin pronounced Fili's illness to be some sort of plague-like disease. Reports quickly started to pour in from Dale. Bard was quarantining the city, as many of his people had already sickened and died. Thranduil was sending his own healers to aid the city, as his own people were at no risk from the terrible disease. All of the children who'd had contact with the men at that last meeting were quickly gathered and placed under quarantine to be watched for signs of illness. All fell sick within a few days. Two of the dwarflings died before any of the elvin healers could even come to Erebor. Exposed to the sickness so much, and being on the edge of elderly himself, Oin soon succumbed to the disease and was quickly bed-ridden, leaving his duties in Risling's hands. Young and strong, the future queen did not succumb. She kept the remaining children alive…sometimes, it seemed, through sheer force of will.

Throughout it all, Kili did not once leave Fili's side. The young princess, the very first to fall ill, was kept in her parents' quarters. After the first forty-eight hours, she fell into an uneasy sleep and would not awaken. She burned with fever and her body convulsed with chills and with coughing. The healthful color left her skin and she became as pale as the sheets on which she lay. Kili watched his bright little girl fade away with terror gripping at his heart, stealing away his own breath with every weakened one Fili fought to take.

It was currently late on the night of the seventh day. Kili only knew this because the candles were beginning to flicker and he would have to replace them soon. He would just as easily have let them burn out, except for the fear that Fili would need him and he wouldn't be able to help her without light.

After another brief, but violent fit of coughing, Fili lay still on the bed once more. Feeling tears begin to slip from his eyes, Kili clasped his hands together and lay his head down on the bed.

"Fili…my brother…please…watch over her. Don't let them take her away from me. I _need_ her. I need her in order to live. If she dies…if she dies, I- I…" He couldn't bring himself to finish. The thought of losing Fili…of losing someone else he loved so dearly…was just too unbearable. How would he live?

He wouldn't. It was really quite simple.

With his head still slumped hopelessly on the bed, he reached out for his little girl's hand, gently gripping the clammy fingers in his own to reassure himself she was still there…that a pulse beat in her small wrist, however weak it was. Slowly, he looked up, reaching out his other hand to stroke her lovely golden hair…the hair that was so much like her uncle's. Oh, Fili…dear Fili. Tossing slightly, the dwarfling groaned pitifully in her sleep.

"My girl. My poor little girl…please don't leave me. Don't die," he begged. Then he began to talk to her, caught somewhere between speaking, singing, and just pleading. The melody was an old lullaby his mother used to sing when he and Fili were little, but the words were all his…a wish…a prayer for his baby.

_I can tell time by the moon._

_I can tell time by the sun._

_No matter how I mark_

_The hours light and dark,_

_I tell you your time's just begun._

_It is morning in your life._

_Day is breaking, oh so bright._

_You've barely made a start._

_Just one beat of my heart._

_Don't sleep away the morning light._

_Please wake up; please wake up._

_Leave dark dreams behind._

_Please wake up; it's your morning,_

_Golden day to find._

_Once I had a morning, too._

_I was young once, just like you._

_It's evening in my life._

_All I have is the night,_

_But it's still early morning for you…_

_For you…_

Then, his desperate plea to the night finished, Kili laid his head back on the bed and sobbed…wept as he had not since losing his brother.

XxX

Thorin nearly wanted to collapse into bed himself by the time he'd finally managed to convince Bilbo to get some sleep, so exhausted was he. The sickness was putting a terrible strain on the two young kingdoms. Balin had fallen ill along with Oin, but Risling was somehow managing to keep the two of them alive, even though several other elderly dwarves had perished. Worried enough over the thought of losing his friends _and_ little Fili, and not knowing whether or not a hobbit's small body could withstand this disease as a dwarf's could, Thorin had insisted Bilbo remain confined to their quarters until the illness had been cleared from the air. The agitated hobbit spent endless days worrying over their friends and family and the fact he wasn't able to see to his garden, which he felt certain might be of some help with the state of things. Thorin made sure things were taken care of, but that didn't keep his husband from worrying.

On this particular evening, Bilbo had been asking to be able to see Fili, as the elvin healers had declared she was nearly out of the woods and should pull through. Thorin wasn't willing to take the risk that the hobbit might still fall ill, though, and the pair had argued bitterly over the subject…until Bilbo had at least conceded to Thorin's worry, knowing what a weight the entire business was putting on the drained King Under the Mountain. Once Bilbo had gone to bed for the night, Thorin found himself summoned once again by his master.

_**The population of Dale has been decimated and weakened by the plague,**_ the Necromancer informed him the moment he was wearing the ring. _**Now is the time to strike against them. I want you to destroy the city of Dale, my slave!**_

_Why do they need to be destroyed…master?_ Thorin added at the end in order to remove a little of the impudence.

_**I would see them laid low before they can organize against me. For many years, I have held the realms of men enthralled to me. Arnor is destroyed, Rohan is weak, and Gondor has fallen into ruin…but with the destruction of the dragon, the men at your doorstep have begun to prosper once more and could begin to pose a threat. Now is the time to put them in their place, while they are still weak. I rather dislike humans, you see, and I would not see them triumph. Destroy them.** _

_While I appreciate your hatred, my master, I would remind you that Erebor has need of the trade we do with Dale in order to survive. We are not self-sustaining. The only food we can provide ourselves is game. Anything else must come from Dale. If you wish me to continue to serve you, my kingdom must survive. Erebor_ _**needs** _ _Dale in order to live, and we need to be at peace with them._

_**Hmm, I suppose I can see your point, little king. You depend on them as I depend on you. Very well, you may let the squalid peasants live…but I do still require a task of you.** _

_And what might that be?_

_**Kill their king. Kill Bard the Bowman!** _

_But why?_

_**You**_ know _ **why. So soon on the heels of the plague, to suffer the death of their ruler when his child is not yet old enough to lead them, Dale will fall into disarray. They will still be able to act as your crutch, but they shall no longer be a threat to me. You**_ will _ **do this, my Thorin…or I will take back what I have given you…perhaps your nephew's little child, as well.**_

_No! Please! Leave them be! I swear it shall be done, my master._

_**Good.** _

Once Thorin was released from the ring's power, he crumpled to his knees in despair. Assassinate Bard? _Murder_ him in cold blood? How could he do it? The bowman was his friend and ally. How could he _possibly_ just stab him in the back like that?

But what else could he do…when it was a choice between Bard and Bilbo…and now Fili, as well? How could he do anything else? He had done so wrong by them already. He couldn't let his family down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note about the song in this chapter. It's from the movie 'Once Upon a Forest', and it's what inspired the little scene, so I thought I'd include it.
> 
> Okay, now shit really gets to cooking.


	6. Fears and Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, but life is life, and oneshots are oneshots.

As with most things in their time, the sickness that plagued Erebor and the lands of Dale passed. Many lives had been lost, and more still had been somehow crippled by the illness. Fili had pulled through, but had lost several of her friends. Oin had finally lost his hearing entirely and Balin had lost his sight to the sickness. Risling had not succumbed to the illness, but working to prevent its spread had worn the young dwarf down, and the exhaustion had taken its exacting toll on her pregnancy.

Risling went into labor nearly two months too soon on a snowy night in February. The atmosphere was much different from the night Fili had come to them. Where before, the air had been one of joy, mischief, and excitement, it was now one of anxiousness and fear. Risling was in no fit state to be giving birth. There was no screaming this time, but they all knew the labor was hard on the drained princess. If it came down to it, Risling had given orders that the child's life be saved instead of hers…and when Dis finally came to the door, her face was ashen.

"Mother?" Kili pressed fearfully when she remained silent for several minutes.

"You…you have a son, Kili. A prince is born," she announced, to which Thorin and the other elder dwarves all nodded their approval.

"What about Risling?" Kili asked. Dis shook her head.

"It's not…going well. She has no strength left."

"Risling!" the prince called out, pushing past his mother. Fili tried to follow her father, but was quickly scooped up by Bilbo. Immediately, she began to struggle.

"Lemme go! Lemme _go!_ I wanna see my mama and my brother!"

The sight Kili beheld upon bursting into their chamber was horrifyingly familiar. The sheets Risling lay on were soaked with blood…almost as if she'd been gutted, and in a way, she had. Her skin was pale and she lay still as death. The healers had done what they could, stopped her bleeding and given her medication. The rest was up to her.

"Oh…Risling," Kili breathed, dropping to his knees on their bed and crawling to her side, gathering her limp body in his arms.

"Kili…Kili…" she called softly, her voice weak. "Is…is he all right…my son?"

"He's here," Dis answered for her son, bringing the young couple a very tiny bundle…much smaller than Fili had been, and this boy did not cry out as she had. He lay still in his blankets, eyes closed, barely breathing.

"Oh," the princess cried out upon seeing her baby. "My boy…my boy. I fear…Kili…that our son…will rest against my breast…when they lay me in stone. I'm…sorry. I failed you."

"No…no…" Kili pleaded with her. "Don't talk like this. You will live. You will _both_ live. You _must_."

"Zel," she said quietly. "Kili…I want…our son's name…to be Zel."

"Yes," he soothed her. "Yes, of course."

"Even if...they can't save me…promise me you'll save him."

"I promise," he said, even as he looked up at Oin, who was signing to him in Iglishmek. The boy was too small…too weak…underdeveloped. There was no way he would last the night. They could only pray that Risling passed before Zel did.

"Where is…my daughter? I want…to see my girl."

At this, a call went out and Bilbo brought Fili into the chamber. Fili started to look frightened at all the solemn faces around her. The hobbit set the little princess down on Kili's lap and she quickly snuggled into the nest created by her parents' bodies.

"Mama? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, my little wolf. I'm just very tired," she said, slowly reaching out a hand to touch Fili's golden curls.

"Where is he, Mama? Where's my baby brother?"

"Right here, child," Dis said, stepping forward with the little boy once again.

"Is he tired, too?" Fili asked, seeing how still the baby was.

"Yes, very tired, dear heart. They both need their rest," Kili told her.

"Only…could you do something for me…before we sleep?" Risling asked her.

"Yeah."

"Your brother needs to eat his first meal…but I don't have the strength to hold him to my breast. Could you…do that for me? Could you hold your little brother?"

"Yes, Mama."

Taking that as her cue, Dis brought Zel to the little family, gently laying him in Fili's arms. Once she had a sure hold of him, Kili helped her guide him to her mother's breast. She half held him and he half rested against Risling within easy reach of her breast…but he turned his little head away, his cheek resting against his food source rather than taking it into his mouth.

"Oh…Zel," Risling whispered, near tears. It was almost as if the babe _knew_ he wasn't going to survive…that he somehow didn't want to prolong the agony.

Fili wasn't having any of that, though. She leaned in closer to her baby brother, so that his tiny body was cocooned firmly but gently between hers and their mother's…held safely between their two heartbeats.

"Zel," the little dwarf said quietly. "Is that your name? It's nice to finally see you, Zel. I'm your big sister. Did you know that? That you have a big sister? I've been waitin' for you to come for _so long_. You don' know how _boring_ it is to have to play by yourself…but that's all gonna change now. We can play together, and I'll show you everythin' you need to know. I love you, Zel…'cuz you're my baby brother. I know it's no fun when the grownups ask you to eat somethin', but…d'you think you could do it just this one time…for me? If you don' like it, you don' have to do it again. Please, Zel…for me."

Several minutes passed in bated silence. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see if Fili's plea would have any effect. Then, slowly, Zel began to turn his head, latching onto his mother and finally beginning to suckle.

"Tha's a good boy. Tha's my li'l brother," Fili said, snuggling a little closer against him and Risling, and Kili held them all close, the two little ones cradled between him and his wife.

"Please…leave us," he said after a time. "I want to be with my family."

No one protested. The healers and the other members of the company all left quietly, until only Dis remained, standing beside their bed. Leaning across Kili and the children, she pressed a kiss to Risling's forehead. "You did well, my friend. Rest now," she said before taking her leave.

The little family didn't speak or move much as they cuddled there together. Fili hummed quietly for her brother as he fed; it was honestly the most still the two young parents had ever seen their daughter. After a time, Zel pulled his mouth away and rested his tiny head against Risling's breast. Reaching for something to grasp, his small hand found his sister's larger one, and his tiny fist wrapped around her finger. Fili smiled as he yawned, drifting off to sleep.

"He'll be okay," she reassured her parents, starting to nod off herself. "He'll be okay…'cuz he's _my_ baby brother…nobody else's…and I'm not gonna _let_ anythin' happen to him. Zel's _mine._ "

"Is that so, little wolf?" Risling asked her.

"Mmhm," she answered sleepily. "My axe is only for Zel."

"When you _have_ an axe, my spitfire," Kili teased her, nuzzling the back of her head. Fili would have turned to play-smack him had she not been preoccupied with holding her brother.

"I _will_ have one…someday," she said primly before a yawn escaped her mouth.

"Is that something you would promise, Fili? To protect your little brother…when your papa and I cannot?" Risling continued.

"Yes," she said, blinking back sleep as she looked up at her mother. "I will… _always_ protect Zel."

"Do you _promise_ me that?" the weakened princess pressed, her gaze serious and focused.

"Yes…I promise," she said, only breaking her gaze to lean down and kiss the top of her brother's head. She mumbled something that sounded like, "My Zel," before resting her head against his and finally dropping off to sleep.

"Can we really do this?" Kili wondered out loud some time later. "Let her have this time…when he…when Zel might-"

"You are…wondering if it would have been better…to not let her see him at all."

"Something like that."

"I would not…keep my babies apart. What would you have given…to be at _your_ brother's side when he passed? What would you give…for one last moment with him?"

"My life," Kili answered without any hesitation.

_I would give my very_ _**soul.** _

"I believe…that Fili loves her brother just as much. She has since before she even knew him. She will treasure every moment of his life…so we may as well let her get started now. Besides…Zel _will_ be here in the morning. He _will_ live."

They didn't talk much after that, and in that time the exhausted young mother drifted to sleep. Kili waited, his body tense as he counted each breath, his heart dreading the moment when it did not resume.

_Mahal…Fili…can I keep her? She…she's my best friend. No one else understands. I don't…want Risling to die for this wretched bloodline. She deserves so much better._

"Please," he begged her, leaning over their two children and dropping a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "Don't go. Don't leave me alone like Fili did."

Feeling guilty for the harsh words against his beloved older brother, Kili began to weep quietly: for Fili, for himself, for Risling, their son and daughter…everything…and only felt worse when he thought he heard Risling's breathing grow stronger. It wasn't for several hours that he realized he wasn't imagining it. Her breathing had evened out and her skin had become less pale and clammy. Hardly daring to hope, Kili slipped two fingers down to Zel's tiny wrist, amazed to find the flutter of a pulse. Somehow, even after it had been so certain they would be lost…would he really be able to keep both of them? The question was answered when Risling finally woke, her expression strangely peaceful.

"Last night…I had a dream…about Zel and Fili…the ones already gone."

"What did you see?" Kili asked his wife, hugging her a little tighter, conveying his relief that she'd woken up as he listened to her.

"I don't think…I was going to come back. I was lost somewhere cold and grey. I couldn't…find my way out. Then…then Zel was there…and she told me to go back…that the children still needed their mother. And she said…"

"What did she say?" Kili asked when she remained silent for several minutes.

"That she didn't die…just so I could give up. Heh…she said she would see me to white hair yet," she said, her laughter bittersweet as tears gathered in her eyes.

"You said you…dreamed of Fili, as well?" Kili pressed. There was no way to know whether Risling had only dreamed it all or if she had really seen something, but some fierce, hungry part of him still wanted to know…still wanted to hear his brother's voice…even if it was only through Risling.

"Yes…he came to stand beside her…and he told me…that his brother still needed me."

"That is true," the prince said, silently thanking his brother for sending Risling back to him.

"He wanted you to know he loves you…and that he waits for you…except he expects you to come to him grey-haired and hobbling on a walking stick."

Kili smiled as tears pricked at his own eyes. "Well, that's hardly fair…to go to my brother an old dwarf while he's still young and beautiful. I would be ashamed to show my face."

"But it would make _him_ happy. You _know_ it would. Only…"

"What?" Kili asked when silence reigned for several more minutes.

"At the last…Fili said something that made no sense. He asked me to tell you…that if he ever sees you again, he will say…the words he could not say seven years ago."

"If…he sees me again? What does _that_ mean? If? Surely…someday…when we go to our rest-"

"Perhaps it means something else? Or perhaps I really was just dreaming?"

"Perhaps…" Kili said softly, but he didn't want to believe it. His mind was fixated on those words…the words he could not say…seven years ago?

_If I see you again…_

_Fili?_

Before anything more could be said on the subject, though, Zel woke with a tiny cry, and Fili shook herself awake only a few minutes later.

"Zel's hungry," she announced, smiling sleepily up at her mother.

"I believe you're right," Risling returned, smiling as she watched her tiny son latch onto her breast to have his meal. Somehow, despite all odds, they had survived the night.

XxX

Even after the miracle of their survival, Risling and Zel were still very weak and were bed ridden for several weeks. Kili was often pulled away by various princely duties, but Fili spent every minute she could with them. She brought all of her favorite toys to show her brother. At Risling's insistence, she would sometimes bring books to read to him, even though she didn't much care for reading herself. Everyday Risling was able to stay on her feet a little longer and Zel's tiny, bell-like laugh grew stronger. Even so, it was several months before Oin finally felt comfortable declaring that the princess and the new little prince would live.

To celebrate the passing of the plague, the survival of the princess and her child, and the fact that the crown prince now had a son, a grand festival was planned for the day of Zel's crowning as a royal prince. Normally, the crowning ceremony occurred much earlier, but there had been so much doubt as to whether or not he would live, it had been decided to wait until he had reached six months.

The whole mountain was in a flurry getting ready for the celebration. The lone hobbit in the midst of all the dwarves was working in his garden preparing some of his late summer roses to make into wreaths when some of the chaos descended on him.

Fili came flying into the chamber with Zel strapped tightly into a fur-lined sling on her back. Then she dove into a patch of daisies, being careful not to trample them, as she knew how much Uncle Bilbo hated that. For a moment, the only things visible above the blossoms were two little dwarf heads.

"We're not here," Fili announced in a rather loud whisper. Bilbo shook his head as he continued to work.

"Now, Fili, you know your parents will worry."

"Serves 'em right," the little princess snipped. "They want us to get dressed for the party."

"What's wrong with that?" Bilbo asked. It was hard to tell _what_ would set the little dwarf off.

"We don't _wanna_ get dressed. We're not done playin' yet."

Bilbo had trouble imagining what sort of games the rambunctious six-year-old could play with her six-month-old brother, but already the two were practically inseparable. Zel really only went back to Risling for feeding and changing. Fili adored her baby brother, and he seemed to adore her in return. The quiet, helpless babe of the first few months had been replaced by a smiling, laughing little dwarfling. Even now, as Fili ducked beneath the flowers, she had to hush Zel's giggling.

Not long after, Ori made his way into the garden chamber, red-eyed and sniffling.

"Pardon me, Bilbo, but have you s-seen…ah…hah- _ah-choo!_ "

"Bless you."

"Thank you," the young dwarf said, swiping fruitlessly at his nose. "Have you seen Kili's little ones? Thorin's becoming quite cross."

"No," Bilbo said with a straight face, thinking his husband could stand to be kept waiting from time to time. "I suggest you try elsewhere before your reaction gets worse."

"Yes…of course…th…th… _ah-choo!_ "

"Bless you."

"Thank you," he said, but as he was heading out, his way was blocked by the broad shoulders of Thorin's right hand dwarf.

"Hold it righ' there, lad," Dwalin said, pushing Ori back into the chamber as he entered. "Did ye even look?"

"I…well, I…" Ori stammered, blushing furiously as he continued to sniffle.

"Ye know they come in here just because they know ye won't follow them. Ye don' search anymore than ye have to. Those pups are in here all righ'," he said, glancing suspiciously around the hobbit's sanctuary. Slowly, he circled the perimeter, searching in the dirt and the dust for signs of the passage of tiny feet.

"Ye'll not hide from _me_ , lassie," he said, an amused grin lighting his rough features as he tracked his prey. When he found what he was looking for, he moved a few paces past the guilty bed of daisies, allowing Fili a moment to think she'd won…just before turning right around and snatching the two dwarflings out of the patch.

"Found ye," he said, smirking at the little princess as she struggled against the hold he had on her fur vest.

"We are betrayed!" she shouted for all the mountain to hear, drawing her wooden sword and smacking Dwalin's thickly-muscled arm with it. It was little more than a mosquito bite to the warrior dwarf. "Baruk khazad! Khazad ai-menu!"

"Ah, that would be a _sword_ , ye wee nipper, _not_ an axe."

"Well, _someday_ I'll have an axe of my own," she insisted, sticking her tongue out at her favorite uncle. All the while, Zel squealed with delight at what fun everything was.

"Maybe so, but right _now_ I know a certain wee prince and princess who need to bathe."

Fili's sword dropped to the floor as her eyes widened in horror.

"You…you _wouldn't_."

"Ye don' think so?" Dwalin asked, pulling her a little closer to his face.

For a moment, Fili looked like she really might put up a fight…but then seemed to remember that she still had Zel on her back…also that a proud warrior never begged for mercy. So the look on her face became one of resolve, almost as if Dwalin were taking her to be executed instead of to take a bath. While Fili looked resigned, Zel just giggled as Dwalin carried them from the chamber.

"He…he does so well with them," Ori said, his gaze fixed on the spot where Dwalin and the two dwarflings had disappeared from sight. "You wouldn't think it."

Bilbo sighed as he stood, walking toward the young dwarf. "Ori…do I need to lock the two of you in a closet?"

Immediately, the scribe's face went an even more violent shade of red than it had been before. " _What?_ "

"It's a little game we used to play back in the Shire. Take two young hobbits who've been dancing around each other and lock them in a closet until they have it out."

"You…you mean me and…and Mister _Dwalin_?" Ori squeaked.

"Why act so surprised, Ori? Everybody else knows," Bilbo said, reaching up to lay a hand on his shoulder. Ori's eyes began to widen in shock.

"Everyone? You don't mean… _everyone?_ "

"I meant what I said."

"Even…even Mister Dwalin?"

"Mmhm."

"Oh…oh, _Mahal!_ " the young dwarf's cry of despair was quickly followed by the worst sneezing fit yet. By the time he'd recovered, it was impossible to tell whether it was just the allergies making his eyes red, or if there was something of tears in them, as well. Bilbo gave him another sympathetic pat as he passed him one of his handkerchiefs, which Ori took gratefully.

"Oh…how can I ever look him in the face again?" he fretted.

"The same way you always have, I imagine. Like you rather wish he'd shove you up against the nearest wall and kiss the living daylights out of you."

"Bilbo, don't make fun. Oh, dear…what must he think of me? A great warrior like him…"

"Offhand, I'd say he thinks your brothers are too protective."

"You…he… _what?_ "

"Oh, I've seen him looking at you. He's just better at concealing it…and I've never known Dwalin to be shy about pursuing what he wants, so the only reason I can think of for him not coming to you is that something's holding him back, and the only explanation I can think of for that is that Nori and Dori aren't overly fond of his reputation," the hobbit speculated.

"How can you say that?" Ori asked, pulling away from him. "He is the mightiest among us."

"That's not really the reputation I was referring to. His…various…bedfellows might have a few different things to say of him."

"A-all right, fine. That _is_ true," Ori said, struggling briefly with his words. "But that's only part of who he is. There…there's so much _more_ than that."

"Can you _handle_ that, though? I know you've never-"

"No need to remind me," the young dwarf interrupted in a huff. "Besides…even if he _does_ …ah- _ah-choo_ …think of me the same way I think of him…I don't think it's that holding him back."

"What _do_ you think, then?"

"You've seen the way he is with Fili and Zel. He wants to be a father. That's…not something I nor any male partner he's ever had could give him," he said, sniffling quietly. "If Dwalin ever does…settle down…it will be with a lady dwarf."

"Don't think like that, Ori. There's always hope. After all, what business did a dwarf king have marrying a hobbit?"

"I suppose," Ori said before lapsing into a sneezing fit.

"You know what? You probably ought to clear the area," Bilbo started, steering Ori out of the garden. "Get yourself breathing proper again. Then have a talk with him."

"Oh, I…I couldn't possibly…everyone's so busy…"

"All right, all right," Bilbo said, sighing in exasperated fondness. "Wait 'til you've had a few drinks, but you _will_ speak to him. Hold onto that handkerchief for now, though. You'll probably be needing it for another hour yet."

XxX

The major difference between Zel and Fili was that Zel was a very well behaved little child, while Fili would rather be rolling around in the mud. Zel hardly ever cried, and it held true even during the crowning ceremony. He lay still in his mother's arms as Thorin placed a simple silver circlet atop his tiny head, a single small sapphire dangling down from it onto his forehead. While his eyes did go crosswise as he tried to look up at it, he didn't make a grab for it, as most dwarflings his age would. Thorin smiled down at his curious expression. Zel was the future. He could only pray that his and Kili's reigns were not marred by darkness and betrayal as his was.

Zel was calm as Thorin took him from Risling's arms and held him up for the assembled crowd to see.

"My people, my friends, I present to you my sister-son's heir…Prince Zel, son of Kili son of Vili."

Cheers went up throughout the massive chamber from dwarves, elves, and men alike. Even though he rarely cried, all of the noise did start to get to Zel and he started to fuss a little. Almost immediately, the king felt a tug on his coat and looked down to see Fili standing beside him, holding up her arms expectantly.

"He doesn' like it. Lemme hold him."

It occurred to Thorin that he ought to be cross with his little grand niece for breeching decorum like this, but he just couldn't find it in himself. Little Fili was so much like her namesake it nearly broke his heart. For a moment, it was almost as if the years had never passed and his oldest sister-son was asking to hold his new baby brother.

_And he'll never hold his baby brother again._ _**You** _ _saw to that. Fili is dead because of_ _**you!** _

Shaking his head to clear it of the poisonous thought, Thorin offered the dwarfling a weak smile as he passed Zel to her. Immediately, the little boy began to perk up, smiling and reaching up to grasp one of his sister's golden curls.

Yes, there was no doubt. Zel would have his most loyal knight in his older sister. Fili would defend his throne with her life.

And there he was again, thinking about the world in terms of sacrifice. Was he ever _not_ going to be a source of death and despair for his family?

_No. No, you're not…not after what you must do tonight._

Tonight was the first night he would have the opportunity to talk with Bard alone since the Necromancer had ordered his death. Thorin had the unhappy task of tarnishing what should have been a night for his grand nephew with a death. His heart weighed heavy, but he kept up a look of strength and joy as he spoke to the crowd about the loyalty between the two siblings and the friendship between the races. His words tasted of lies in his mouth, but he spoke them just the same because it was what the people needed to hear…would need to remember after tonight.

Following the coronation, the revelers moved on to the feasting and celebrating. Thranduil's son, the elvin prince, Legolas, and Kili became involved in a friendly archery competition, which they always seemed to every time they met up because they simply couldn't resolve the question of whom was the better archer. Tonight was no exception. It also wasn't the only competition of skill to take place that night…only the next one was decidedly less friendly.

The original company of dwarves who had set out with Thorin to reclaim the Lonely Mountain had become something of a family to each other, both on the road and after the fact. Even though about half of them were not members of the royal court, they and their families were still afforded places of honor with the members of the royal family. Tonight they were all gathered together at a large table in the great hall and the topic of conversation was Gimli and the fact that he'd just started braiding his ruddy, flyaway hair.

"Hey, Gim!" one of the young dwarf's friends from another table began to tease. "Maybe you ought to just chop off your hair altogether and go among the halflings! After all, the little one has even more braids than _you_ do."

"Oh, no…that's…I don't…it's not…" Bilbo stuttered, trying to soothe the argument before Gimli could explode into a fit of temper. He couldn't say it wasn't true, though. For the one thick braid down Gimli's back, Bilbo had three smaller braids. While his hair wasn't nearly a match for a dwarf's mane, it was certainly longer than average for a hobbit. There was one braid that traveled halfway across the back of his head and two that hung down behind his right ear.

"Kili has no braids at all. Why are you bothering with my one?" Gimli snarled.

"Kili is prince and he is in mourning. Who were you mourning up until a week ago? Suddenly you have enough experience under your belt for braiding?"

"Yes, because you are _so_ much more experienced than I," he growled, struggling to keep his temper.

"Not by much…but enough to have more braids than one who isn't even a dwarf."

" _Aagh!_ That is it!" the young noble finally shouted, slamming his fists down on the table and upsetting his mug of ale. "Bilbo of the Shire, I challenge you to a contest of arms!"

"Me?" Bilbo asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. "How is this my fault?"

"Stood beside you, I am always made to look the fool. I'll suffer it no more!"

"And ye'll look the fool again if ye challenge the king's consort, boy. Sit down," Gloin ordered his son.

"I will not. We're going to have this out _right now!_ "

"All right, but don't say I didn't warn ye. Our burglar is much more than he appears," Gloin said, going for another shank of mutton.

"Don't _you_ have anything to say about this?" Bilbo asked his husband indignantly.

"Of course not. This I'd like to see," he said, smirking languidly as he indicated that two of the servants ought to clear away a few tables to make a place for the duel. Bilbo wasn't one to openly display weapons, but he had trained well with Sting and Gimli was neither the first nor would he be the last to underestimate him.

"Well…I suppose I'll need to go and fetch my blade," Bilbo said, shrugging in exasperation. Thorin just continued his smirking, calling for Sting to be brought out. Gimli was already standing in the cleared circle, his axe at the ready. There were already several protests about how fair it was to do battle sword versus axe.

"I can't lift one of those ridiculous axes," Bilbo said once Sting had been brought to him and he was facing off with the young dwarf. "Besides…the weapon doesn't matter so much. It's the person wielding it," he said, to which Dwalin, Thorin, and Fili all cheered raucously and drank to the hobbit's victory.

Gimli made the opening move, launching himself at Bilbo with a fierce cry, axe ready to strike. Bilbo easily moved out of the way of the clumsy attack, though, amazingly light on his feet. They continued in this way for some time, Gimli attacking and Bilbo turning easily aside. When he actually had to take a blow from the axe, he blocked with Sting, using his finesse to turn the heavy blow aside. Already tired and frustrated with the endless rounds of keep away, Gimli threw yet another clumsy blow that was easily turned away.

" _Come on,_ halfling! Face me like a dwarf!"

"But I'm not a dwarf, now am I," Bilbo said, grinning faintly. "I'm a hobbit."

With that, Bilbo spun gracefully to the side, nicking Gimli's wrist with his blade. It was a little thing…nothing more than a sting…but it caused Gimli to drop the axe with a shout, allowing Bilbo to seize his other wrist and lay Sting across his neck.

Several wild cheers went up at the victory. Gimli looked absolutely livid, but he said nothing. The two opponents stepped back from each other and bowed, but then Bilbo went to confront the dwarf who had been goading his friend's son.

"Now it's _your_ turn. What's your name?"

The young dwarf blinked in surprise for several minutes. "I…I am Ravi, son of Reni. But…what have _I_ done, master halfling?"

"I seem to recall there was something said about you having more braids than I do. Does that somehow make you a better fighter?"

"Well, I…I certainly never meant to imply-"

"Come now, Ravi, if you're going to offer other dwarves up to my blade, you must surely have more than that mouth of yours to face me with. Show us what you've got."

"But I didn't…I wasn't…I never-"

"Go on, laddie. Show us how _superior_ ye are to our halfling," Balin said, chuckling at what he was sure must be an amusing sight.

"I…I…all right. Y'know what, fine," the red-headed dwarf said, though he still looked slightly nervous as he stepped up, readying his own sword.

Thorin had a good laugh as he stood from their table. When he managed to catch Bilbo's eye, he offered him a sweeping bow, letting him know he needed to step out. For a moment, Bilbo returned the smile the dwarf king knew he was giving him, but then his expression shifted into something odd for a moment and he seemed to look deeper. Before Bilbo could disengage from the latest fight, Thorin turned away, moving his attention to Bard, who was sitting nearby with his own family.

"Will you walk with me, my friend? I have something I wish to discuss with you."

"Of course," Bard said, draining his wine goblet and dropping a kiss on his young son's head before rising to follow Thorin from the hall…not out to the gates or the corridors that led to living quarters, council chambers, and archives, but down deeper…into the mines.

The process of taking back Erebor had never been so simple a thing as reclaiming it from Smaug. It had also been a matter of reclaiming the peak's many halls and tunnels from the decades of disuse and disrepair. The dragon had cared only to sleep on his bed of gold. The rest of the resplendent kingdom had been left to rot. Mining tunnels had to be carefully maintained or they would eventually collapse. They had lost several dwarves to this maintenance process in the early days and it was an ongoing battle against the mountain itself. There were few areas truly in danger of collapse anymore, but Thorin knew of at least one or two…places that wouldn't raise too much suspicion if some sort of horrible accident occurred there. It was the first of these tunnels the King Under the mountain made his way to, in the hope of making this murder appear like a tragic accident.

In truth, a small part of him prayed to just die in this accident himself…to go to his rest and take his horrible betrayals away…to a place where they could do no harm to the people he loved. Except…he realized what would happen if he left now. His master would focus his grasping, greedy attention on Kili next. He would offer him the Ring of Power…and if he truly lived up to his title, could truly raise the dead as he claimed to have raised Azog to serve him…then he could easily take Kili and hold him in the palm of his hand. Grieving, innocent, little Kili would sign his soul away to the Necromancer in a heartbeat…at the promise of being able to see his brother again. So Thorin could not allow himself to die. The cycle would only get worse, so he had to continue to live these wretched lies.

"So what was it you needed to speak with me about?" Bard asked as they continued along the torch-lit pathway. "We have come some distance after all."

"Yes, certainly you are curious. You see, my miners have discovered a new vein of raw ruby. I wanted you to be the first to see it before we begin mining."

"Is it much further? They'll probably start to wonder what happened to us before too long."

"Not much further. Just two more tunnels over. Only we need to be careful on this next overhang. It hasn't been reinforced yet and it can only bear the weight of one at a time. If you'll just wait a moment, I'll take the lead," he said, heading out onto an overhang that jutted out over a seemingly endless drop into the roots of the peak. The way hadn't been roped in order to discourage passage. The only support one had was to lay a hand against the stone face that completed the small ledge.

Once Thorin had reached the other side, he called for Bard to start heading over. With the added weight of a human, the overhang became even more unstable. It wouldn't take much…

_Bard…Bilbo…I am_ _**so sorry.** _ _Can you ever forgive me for this?_

When Bard was about halfway across, Thorin raised his hand and slammed a powerful fist against the rock face. Almost immediately, the ledge began to give way. Bard looked up at him, his eyes wide with fear.

"Bard, hurry!" he shouted. "It's coming down!"

The king of Dale struggled against the collapsing overhang, but in vain. He tried to throw himself the last few feet, but the rock on which he stood betrayed him, disappearing from under his feet. The man screamed as he fell.

Thorin was thrown back against the far wall by the overhang's final shudder and an up spray of crumbling stone. For a moment, he was left dazed by the impact…but then he heard a desperate cry.

"Thorin! Thorin, _help me!_ "

_Oh, Mahal!_

Crawling to the edge of where the overhang had once been, Thorin looked over and saw Bard hanging from a small jut of rock. On instinct, he stretched a hand over the edge, reaching for him. The distance was just a few inches too great. He couldn't reach.

" _Uncle!_ " another voice suddenly shouted. Thorin looked across the now empty chasm to see Kili standing at the far entrance, a look of horror in his eyes. Thranduil and Legolas stood behind him.

"Hold on, Uncle, just hold on!" Kili called out, quickly disappearing back down the tunnel with the two elves close behind, no doubt circling around to end up on their side.

"Hold on," Thorin urged the man, mirroring his nephew's plea. "They're coming. Just hold on."

It was no use, though. Already, Bard's purchase on the wall was crumbling. For a moment, he caught Thorin's gaze, telling him without words that he didn't blame him. Then he was gone.

" _No!_ " Thorin shouted, trying to throw himself after him, but at that moment, a strong pair of arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back from the abyss.

"He's gone, Uncle," he heard Kili's voice in his ear. "Getting yourself killed won't bring him back."

_No, but it just might atone for it._

"Damn it! _Damn it!_ " he shouted, pounding a fist against the floor.

_What have I done?_ _**What have I done?!** _

"Thorin, what happened?" Thranduil asked, kneeling beside the two dwarves. Thorin glared at him.

"What do you _think_ happened?! The ledge gave way!"

"Is the area known to be dangerous at all?"

"Yes," Kili answered for his uncle. "But if the proper precautions were taken, it should have been passable. We haven't lost a dwarf to this passage in years."

"And _were_ the proper precautions taken?" the elf king pressed.

"I don't know what happened," Thorin lied. "We took the pass one at a time, as we should have. Then…then it was just crumbling and…he…"

"That's enough, elf king," Kili snapped at him. "This was an accident. We cannot know what caused the ledge to give…but there is no help for it now."

Legolas sighed, his expression heavy. "Either way…we now have the unhappy task of informing Bard's family that the king is dead."

"A terrible tragedy," Thranduil agreed. "And this was meant to be such a happy night."

"You're bleeding," Kili said to his uncle, brushing hair away from his face. The prince's fingers came away red. "How do you feel?"

"Honestly, I had not noticed it," Thorin said, staggering to his feet. Almost immediately, he swooned, nearly going back over the edge.

"Uncle!" Kili shouted, shooting upward to help him to stand. Thorin leaned gratefully against him.

"That debris must have…hit me harder than I thought," he groaned. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed his vision had gone a little darker.

"Don't worry. We'll get you down to Oin. It'll be all right."

_No…I doubt it will_ _**ever** _ _be all right again._

XxX

Later that night, after the awful news of Bard's death had broken over the crowd of revelers and a troop of dwarves had been sent to retrieve what remained of him, Thranduil and Legolas were in the chambers they'd been granted for the duration of the festival.

"There was something not right about him," the king said to his son.

"Do you think…he might have had a hand in Bard's death?" the younger elf asked.

"I could not say. If he did, he is an unparalleled deceiver. He seemed genuinely shocked, horrified, and guilt-ridden over what happened."

"And if it _was_ somehow his doing, it would have been a murder-suicide," Legolas pointed out. "If Kili hadn't been showing us the way to the ruby vein himself, we wouldn't have heard the collapse. Thorin Oakenshield would surely have died attempting to rescue Bard."

"True. As I said, I cannot be certain _what_ happened…but I felt something dark tonight…something I have not felt for an age."

"You don't suppose…it could be _him_ , do you?"

"I couldn't say. Dwarves are not the sort to fall under his control so easily…but there is still…something not quite right under the mountain. I will send word to Mithrandir. He will be able to discover the truth of the matter. Though…I believe, in the meantime, we ought to speak with Malena about…bringing Bain home with us."

"You mean…foster him in Mirkwood?"

"Just so. It seems safest at the moment…to keep Bard's son far from danger and intrigue…as the rule of Dale is currently in doubt and we cannot be certain of Thorin's intentions in all this. We owe Bard that much…to see that his legacy is protected."

"You are right," Legolas said after a time. "I don't _want_ to believe anything ill of Kili and the others, but…at the same time…something about all this just isn't right."

XxX

Bilbo had been utterly distraught when they'd brought Thorin back to the great hall, bleeding and nearly unconscious. Oin had threatened to drug him right along with the king, but that had prompted the hobbit to get control of himself. It wouldn't do for him to be out of commission if Thorin needed him…and it turned out that he did.

Later in the evening, Bilbo lay with Thorin in their bed, running his fingers through his dark hair and holding him close as he slept his drugged sleep. Every time he thought about it, he wanted to scream and sob. He had come so close to _losing_ Thorin…and Bard _had_ been lost. He knew he could only imagine the pain Malena was feeling.

_What would I do…if I lost you?_

"For all our life…and until death…together shall we be," Bilbo said softly as he pressed a tender kiss to Thorin's forehead.

"From now…until the ending of eternity," Thorin groaned as his eyes flickered open

"You're awake!" Bilbo had to keep himself from shouting. Gently, he kissed the dwarf's lips. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit like my side's been dragged over a mile of broken stone," Thorin said, trying to sit up and failing.

"Do…do you remember what happened?"

At once, Thorin fell still, ceasing his struggle to sit. For several minutes, he just stared at the ceiling.

"Bard's dead…isn't he."

"Yes."

"And I'm still here."

"Yes. Yes, you are," Bilbo said, pulling him close once again, "and I couldn't be more grateful. I love you, Thorin Oakenshield."

For a long while, Thorin said nothing. He just buried his face in Bilbo's chest, letting the hobbit hold him and kiss the top of his head. After a time, though, Bilbo realized that his husband was weeping. Only once before had he seen Thorin Oakenshield weep.

"Forgive me," he hissed, his voice thick with pain. " _Please, forgive me_ …please…"

"It wasn't your fault," Bilbo soothed him. "It was an accident."

Thorin looked up at him then, and in his bloodshot eyes, the halfling saw something beyond grief, beyond survivor's guilt. The look in his eyes said he couldn't breathe…that something was strangling the life out of him.

"Thorin…?"

"I should…I should be dead," was all he could choke out before hiding his face against Bilbo's chest once again.

"Don't say that," Bilbo hissed at him. "Not ever. What should I do if you were dead? What but follow you?"

At this, Thorin's grip on him tightened. He clung to him so tightly, he could hardly breathe.

"Don't _you_ start on that," the dwarf growled against his chest. "Everything I have ever done in my life…would all come to nothing…if my dear thief were not alive."

"Well…this is one argument neither of us will ever win. We are both breathing. For now we should just…let it be. Rest now, my king under the mountain. Sleep and forget your sorrow. I will still be here when you wake," he soothed him, running gentle fingers through his hair and rubbing his back until he finally fell asleep in his arms.


	7. Formless and Vanquished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, my friends, fair warning…what happens in this chapter, I think I'm gonna have to classify it as rape, even though the victim doesn't really view it that way. Dubcon doesn't quite cover it. Thou hast been suitably warned. Enjoy.

Zel was the child everyone had expected Fili to be: quiet, polite, a little shy. Even though he looked very much like him, those who knew Kili could hardly believe Zel was his son. Where Fili had gravitated to Dwalin, Zel gravitated to Ori. He loved his writing and language lessons with the scribe. In fact, he loved all of his lessons; Zel was very studious and would devour everything his teachers taught him. Really, the only thing that could pull him away from his books…was his big sister.

"Zel? Are you awake in there, lad?" Ori's voice interrupted the five-year-old's thoughts. The prince blinked up at his mentor, not even realizing he'd drifted off.

"Sorry," he apologized, looking sheepish as he played with a strand of his dark hair.

"Your head's in the clouds today, princeling," Ori scolded mildly. "Normally, you love hearing the old tales of Khazad Dum. Where is that sharp mind of yours?"

"Well…Papa said the traders are s'ppose to come today. Fili promised to take me out to see 'em."

"Ah, yes. The caravan," Ori said, feeling a little excited himself. Every year, a trade caravan came to Erebor from the dwarves who still dwelt in Ered Luin, along with men from the western villages, sometimes even a few elves. It was always a sight to see and Zel had never before been allowed out for it. Risling was still hesitant, but it seemed this year she was allowing her youngest out under the watchful eyes of his devoted sister.

Then, almost as if their talk had summoned her, Fili burst into the chamber like a wild fire, upsetting a stack of scrolls in her hurry.

"Sorry, Ori," the young princess apologized, hastily righting the ancient rolls of parchment while Ori winced. "Zel! Zel! Are you done yet? They've been spotted!"

Zel gasped, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Slowly, he turned to look at Ori, hopping anxiously from one foot to the other.

"All right, go on and go already. I no longer have your heart today," he said, smiling affectionately as he moved to right Fili's sloppy work.

"Yay!" the siblings cheered.

"Come on, Nadadith, let's run!" Fili shouted, grabbing her baby brother by the hand and taking off with him.

"Be careful!" Ori called after them…and not five minutes later, a new voice entered the chamber…a voice he both did and did not want to hear.

"The scamps been through here?" Dwalin asked him.

"They just left here. You didn't see them?" he returned, joking with the older dwarf as much as he dared.

"Well, if the lass left even a minute ago, she's probably all the way to the gates by now," Dwalin said with a chuckle. "Ah, well, it's healthy for Risling to worry a little…though she might worry about that lad a little too much, I think."

"Was there something you needed?" Ori asked, trying very hard not to look at the warrior.

"Lassie just wanted me to keep an eye on the nippers…that and Balin needs ye."

"Oh, of- of course," Ori stammered, immediately going to fetch his writing kit. Ever since Balin had lost his sight to the plague, Ori had been his official scribe. While he did enjoy being of use to the elder dwarf, it also meant he had to see more of the one dwarf he did and did not want to see.

Bilbo had been encouraging him to say something to Dwalin for the past five years, but the shy scribe just hadn't been able to bring himself to it. Dwalin had made no move, either, and Ori had come to see that Bilbo was right about the way the older dwarf looked at him. Still the heavy silence remained between them. What else could Ori conclude but that he had been measured and found somehow lacking, even though Dwalin still looked at him with desire. Certainly, the warrior lacked nothing in his estimation, so the fault must lie with _him_ somehow.

The young dwarf couldn't have known how wrong he was, but if Dwalin would not speak his mind, how could _anyone_ be expected to know it?

"So," he continued, his voice a touch softer, "s'pose I'll be seein' ye out today."

"I suppose so," Ori answered, his voice almost curt as he headed out of the chamber.

"Hey…keep safe, yeah?"

"Safe?" Ori repeated, hesitating a moment on the threshold. He had given a very similar warning to the children just now. What? Did they all think something bad was going to happen? Shaking the thought off, Ori finally nodded before heading off, calling over his shoulder, "Yes…sure."

XxX

Fili enjoyed days like today…days when she didn't have to do her lessons, when she and Zel could go out and play…days when she didn't have to be a princess. What was more, many of these new people didn't even _know_ she was a princess. As far as they knew, she was just a little girl, and she was content to behave as such as she and Zel wandered among the stalls that had been set up in and outside the gates.

Zel had grown tired after about an hour of exploring and Fili had hitched him up onto her back, not yet done with the sights and sounds of the caravan. Curious as she was, though, her little brother was really starting to fade.

"Wanna go find something to eat?" she asked. Zel didn't speak, but she felt him nod against her shoulder. Just as Fili was moving to head into the great hall, she saw it.

A young man was turning away from a stall and a blade slipped from his belt, falling to the ground without him noticing. Fili felt a moment of horror as the man walked away. She couldn't imagine anything more horrible than to lose a weapon. So, defying her mother's strictest rule, never speak to humans, she went and picked up the small blade.

"Sir!" she called, running after him. "Wait! You dropped your dagger!"

Turning to find the source of the voice, the dark-haired young man looked surprised, then he smiled as he knelt before the young dwarf, coming down to her height to accept the blade.

"Thank you, little miss. This blade is precious to me…given to me by a dear friend. It would have been devastating to lose it."

"No trouble. I can only imagine what a blow it would be to lose such a fine weapon."

"You have a good eye, young mistress," the man said, keeping the dagger out so she might look at it a little longer. "Do I stand in the presence of one of the fabled warriors of the dwarves?"

"Someday I will be," Fili declared proudly, but then looked a little sheepish. "I'm not old enough to have real weapons yet."

"Fili, don't," Zel whined fearfully in her ear. "We're not s'pposed to talk to men."

"It's fine, Zel. He's nice."

The man chuckled at this. "There are some who might debate that, but it's probably wise not to talk to strangers."

"Oh, it's not strangers. Mama just doesn't like us talking to men. She's afraid of them," Fili explained with a touch of scorn in her voice. "But I don't think there's anything to be afraid of."

"Fili, please!" the dwarfling begged her, fisting the fabric of her vest in desperate hands as he started to cry. "I'm scared."

Sighing, Fili slid her little brother down her back and stood him on his feet before her, gently taking his shoulders in her hands.

"Zel, look at me," she said, waiting for him to comply before continuing. "Would I _ever_ let anything bad happen to you?"

"N-no," the little boy answered, still sniffling.

"So what are you afraid of when you've got _me_ here to protect you?"

"I…I dunno."

"There's nothing to fear," she soothed him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before pulling him into her arms for a hug. "Nothing will ever harm you so long as you've got me."

"Sister," he mumbled, hugging her tight. The man smiled warmly at the two siblings.

"Am I really so terrifying, little one?"

For a moment, Zel glanced fearfully at the man, but then he slowly shook his head, clinging to his big sister a little tighter.

"What's your name?"

"Zel," he whispered.

"And is this your older sister, Zel?"

"Mmhm."

"Would you tell me about her?"

"Her name is Fili…and she's the bravest dwarf ever!" he announced, his adoration for his sibling making him even bolder. "She's not afraid of the forges or the dark. She burned her hand on a hot sword once and she didn' cry. She's not scared of anythin'. She's gonna be king under the mountain someday!" he shouted for all to hear, throwing his arms wide, far as he could be from hiding in his sister's arms.

Fili actually blushed a little at her brother's words. "Zel, stop it. You know only boys can be king. _You're_ going to be king."

"Nuh-uh," he said, shaking his head as his eyes shone with mirth and love. "It's gonna be you."

Fili cleared her throat, still blushing as she turned her attention back to their new friend. "Well, you know who we are. What's _your_ name?"

The man got an odd look in his eyes at this, but ultimately just shook his head. "I have a few, but you can call me Estel."

"Okay. Nice to meet you, Estel."

"And you, as well, Zel and Fili, prince and princess of the Lonely Mountain."

"Estel!" a familiar voice suddenly joined the conversation. The three looked up to see Legolas hurrying toward them. Estel's face lit up at the sight of the elf prince and he stood to embrace him.

"Mellon nin," he said softly in greeting, lingering over the embrace a moment longer.

"It is good to see you again. Endearing ourselves to the local royalty, I see," he said, smiling at the two siblings.

"Actually, Fili found a blade I'd dropped…the one _you_ gave me."

"You wound me, mellon nin," Legolas said, though the smile on his face said otherwise. "That you could misplace my gift so easily…"

"I was careless," Estel admitted, "but all is mended now, thanks to Fili."

"Legolas, will you be shooting against Papa again?" Fili asked, eyes bright with excitement.

"Probably…if the old dwarf's up for it."

"Oooh, I'm gonna tell him you said that."

" _Fili! Zel!_ " a shrill voice suddenly sounded through the crowd. Moments later, a distraught-looking Risling burst through the throngs and swept up her youngest before placing herself as a shield between Fili and Estel. "What are you doing talking to my children?" she snarled at him.

For a moment, Estel was too shocked to even speak. He just stared, wide-eyed at the young mother.

"You've no business with them, man-thing. If you even _look_ at my babies again, I will skin you myself," she warned him.

"I…truly, I meant no harm, my lady," he said, dropping to one knee before the dwarf princess. "Your daughter returned to me something I had dropped."

"Likely…and what was to happen afterward? Were you going to _thank_ her?" Risling accused, for indeed, this unkempt thing had even the look of the men from her nightmares…a wanderer… _dangerous_.

"Risling, control yourself," Thorin's voice boomed through the air. Immediately, the people fell back, making way for the king, his consort, and his heir. As Risling had done with Fili, Kili placed himself between Estel and his wife.

"Do we _have_ to do this today?" Kili asked her, a look of pleading in his eyes.

"It's not Estel's fault," Fili tried to argue. " _I_ broke the rules. _I_ spoke to him first."

At this, Risling's anger divided between the man and her daughter. "You spoke to a man… _while_ you had your brother with you?"

"Yes," Fili said, her tone growing indignant.

"I expect you to watch out for your brother; I _trusted_ you, Fili. Do I need to rethink letting the two of you wander alone?"

Fili was opening her mouth to argue…but Zel beat her to it. He cried out as if injured, struggling in his mother's arms, reaching out for his sister.

" _No!_ " he cried. "Don't take Fili away!"

Kili looked stricken at his young son's desperate plea…almost as if he could hear the words in his own voice. Who would dare to take Fili away from her brother… _his_ brother?!

Shaking himself to banish the sudden chill, Kili held his arms out for Zel.

"We can't…do this to them, Risling. It isn't fair."

Risling looked ready to argue, but then she really seemed to see what was in her husband's eyes, and she slowly relinquished her little son. Giving the boy a warm smile and a kiss on the top of his head, Kili passed him to his big sister, whom he clung to with all his might.

"Take your brother to get something to eat, all right?"

Nodding, Fili slowly started to head off, but not before murmuring, "Bye," to Estel, who nodded politely to her, though he still knelt before Kili and Risling.

"Well, we seem to have caused quite a ruckus. Who are you, stranger?" Thorin asked him.

For a moment, Estel looked nervous, uncertain how to answer…but then Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, captain of the Dunedain of the north," his friend answered for him.

"Hmm. Yet you told my grand niece your name is Estel?"

"Estel is how I have walked these twenty-three years. It _is_ my name. Aragorn is an identity and inheritance I have only recently come into."

"And what brings you to my kingdom, man of the north?"

"A desire to see more of the world…perhaps to do some good in it. I had never journeyed east of the Misty Mountains. I truly meant no harm to your child, my lady," he said, bowing his head to Risling as he pulled out the dagger once again. "She only restored to me a treasured possession."

Kili chuckled at the sight of the finely crafted weapon. "Yes, our wolf would certainly consider that a treasure. Be well pleased she returned it to you."

Estel shared a smile with the prince, both thinking of the way Fili's eyes would light up at the sight of a blade. Then Estel sheathed the dagger again.

"No. Fili is an honorable and brave little girl. She has been raised well."

"And you know that after knowing her for ten minutes?" Risling sneered. Now she was just looking for a fight.

"How could one _not_ see it?" Estel asked calmly. "Fili is young, but she is a daughter of kings, and it shines from within her."

Thorin chuckled quietly at this, smiling vaguely. "I would take anyone else who said such things for a flatterer, but I find nothing insincere in you, Aragorn, Arathorn's son. Rise. You are welcome here, and of course welcome to join our table for supper."

"You are most gracious, Thorin, King Under the Mountain," Estel said, inclining his head toward Thorin in respect as he got to his feet.

Over the following days, Estel grew closer to the royal family, winning the hearts of the two young children. Risling allowed it only grudgingly, and only if she was able to keep her eyes on Estel. Thorin, Bilbo, Kili, and the other dwarves of the company all made fast friends with the young ranger and were all sad to see him leave to accompany Legolas back to Mirkwood when the caravan departed. Indeed, the caravan's departure seemed almost like the end of a rest to Thorin, for he began to hear his master's voice in his head not too long after.

_**Has the time been enjoyable to you, my little king…pretending you're**_ not _ **stabbing them all in the back?**_

_It tends to be, yes,_ he answered to the dark void in his heart. Each time they spoke, it seemed to Thorin that void grew a little larger…consumed a little more. _Have your ventures been productive?_

_**Quite so. While you've been keeping the elves, the men, and your own people busy, my wraiths have been gathering the orcs and goblins scattered by your battle. My force is already far greater than I could have hoped to achieve on my own in such a short amount of time. That force has grown**_ so _ **large, in fact, I had a wish to test it in battle.**_

_Against whom, my master?_ Thorin asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

_**Remember those wood elves you hate so much? Thranduil's kith? The same people who refused to help you when you were most in need? I have sent my force against them. They have been on the march while your people have been making merry; they will arrive in two days' time,**_ the dark one explained. Thorin could almost swear there was glee in his voice.

_So you mean to raze the Mirkwood kingdom, then?_

_**Just so. With Thranduil out of the way, the former Greenwood will be mine. From there, I can strike against the elves of Lorien. You, my little king, need do nothing more than stand back and let it happen. Do nothing to hinder my force when they pass by the Lonely Mountain.** _

Thorin half-wished he could summon up more pity for the elves than he was feeling. They had been a great help during the Battle of Five Armies, but even though he understood the decisions Thranduil had made, some part of him would always feel the sting of betrayal of that single moment their supposed ally had turned from them. It would not cost him much to stand back and let the elves fend for themselves. What truly weighed on his mind was the fact that Estel might still be in Mirkwood, that the young captain might be put in danger when the hammer stroke fell.

_**You seem hesitant, my little Thorin. Why? Don't tell me you've grown to care about your old enemies,**_ the dark one scoffed.

_It isn't that. It's just that…a friend of ours is staying with the elves at the moment. I would rather not see harm befall him._

_**One who is a friend of elves hardly seems to be one worthy of your friendship. Let me see him.** _

With that, his master began to poke around in his thoughts, pulling forth an image of Estel. Almost immediately, the dwarf king felt the dark one's horrible anger flare up inside his mind and heart, beginning to scorch him.

_**It's**_ him! _**The child of those damnable Numenoreans! Elendil's get! He bears the Ring of Barahir! He is the one!**_

Thorin fell to his knees, clutching at his head as the blazing agony of the more than mortal hatred swept through him. It took everything he had not to cry out and alert Bilbo, who was asleep back in their room. When the Necromancer's rage had finally spent itself, Thorin was left lying helpless on the floor, struggling for his next breath, so ravaged was he by his master's power.

_**This child**_ cannot _ **live. I will not allow it. The heir of Isildur must be destroyed! I have destroyed every last remnant of the house of Elendil…save for this. If this whelp somehow survives the fighting, you will hunt him down and slay him yourself. This Estel, this**_ hope, _ **must not live!**_

"Master…Master, _why?_ " he asked, unable to manage more than a whisper, lest he end up retching all over himself from the pain in his body.

_**It is not given to you to question**_ why! the dark one snarled in his head. _**All you need understand is that you have but one choice: the boy's life…or the halfling's…and know if you betray me, you will have**_ neither. _**You**_ will _**see this done, my little dwarf…or you will know suffering the like of which no mortal before you has ever endured.**_

Thorin protested no further. It was all he could do to slip the ring from his finger and break the connection. For a long while after, he just lay on the floor, his only thought drawing air into his lungs and pushing it out again…even though he knew he didn't deserve such a kindness as breath.

"Bilbo…Bilbo…Bilbo…" he whispered over and over again, his voice thick with pain. "Bilbo…Dis…Father…Mother…what shall I do? Help me. _What can I do?!_ "

XxX

Just as the Necromancer had promised, on the second day, Thorin's scouts came to him with a report of an army of orcs marching north. Thorin ordered their own forces to be readied for battle, alongside those of Dale…but was little surprised when the approaching force did not engage them.

"Cowards," Dwalin snarled as he observed the passing army. "Why don't they fight? Where are they goin'?"

"Thorin…is it possible…this force moves against Mirkwood?" Balin suggested, slightly nervous.

"As things stand, I'd say it's a great deal more than just possible," Thorin said quietly, his expression unreadable.

"Should we prepare to pursue then?" Gloin asked. "We can't have this filth walking about."

For a moment, the king under the mountain seemed to deliberate, but then he slowly shook his head. "No. This force is too great. We cannot risk our own people for the sake of a people who would not risk there's for ours. Let Thranduil fight his own battle."

"What?!" Kili demanded in shock. "Uncle, you cannot possibly think to just stand by and do nothing! What about Legolas? Estel? Tauriel? They are our _friends!_ I understand the danger, but will you not at least _warn_ them of what moves against their kingdom?"

"No," Thorin answered, his face cold and implacable. "I will not aid Thranduil. He aided us thirteen years ago because it was in his best interest to do so. It is not in ours to do so tonight."

"But, Uncle-"

" _Enough!_ " Thorin snarled, glaring at every one of his advisors. "My decision is final. I will not risk this kingdom for the sake of the elves. The first one to even _think_ of defying me will be put to the axe."

They all backed down at this decree, albeit hesitantly and horrified at the king's sudden shift in behavior. All stood down…all except one.

"Thorin Oakenshield," Bilbo's angry voice suddenly cut through the heavy silence. "I don't believe you'll do this."

Slowly, Thorin turned to look at his husband, feeling the beginnings of anger boiling in his gut. "Don't you?" he asked, his voice ugly and dangerous.

"No, I don't. I know you're a good person, Thorin. There's no reason for you to do this."

"You don't understand," Thorin hissed at him, feeling his anger grow, even though he knew it was completely irrational. Of _course_ Bilbo did not understand; _none_ of them did…because he had not told them. He had not told them of the Devil's bargain he had made for the sake of his love…of the deadly choice that he was even now enmeshed in. Even so, he couldn't control his rising anger. He had sacrificed every part of his soul that was still good for Bilbo. Could the defiant little thing not follow his lead for _once?_ "We…we _must_ let this happen."

" _Why?_ " Bilbo demanded, his face going red with anger. "Tell me _why!_ "

At this, the dwarf king's anger flared up beyond his control. The void in his heart spread outward and engulfed him, erasing his sorrow and his love, leaving him with only pain and anger. He seized the hobbit's collar, shoving him against the wall with violence in his every movement. The others started to protest, but fell still and silent when Thorin began to speak.

"You _know_ why, my thief. As I have told you, everything I do…everything I _have_ done, or _will_ do in the future…is done for _your_ sake."

"No!" Bilbo growled right back, struggling against Thorin's hold. "If you hate the elves…if you don't want to fight for them, then just say that…but don't say you're doing this evil thing because of _me!_ I can't accept that!"

"You forfeited that right long ago…when you gave yourself over to me as my consort," Thorin hissed in his face. "You belong to _me_ , Bilbo Baggins…and did I not say that the first to defy me would be put to the axe?"

The others fell gravely silent at this, but Bilbo did not look afraid. He only continued to glare. "I _know_ you won't do that, Thorin. Don't make empty threats."

"Perhaps not," Thorin whispered in his ear, licking the flushed red skin, "but I _will_ remind you where you stand in this kingdom," he snarled before flinging the hobbit over his shoulder.

"No!" Bofur tried to protest, moving to prevent Thorin from leaving the gate. In his fit of rage, Thorin struck him a fierce blow to the head, sending him sprawling to the floor. When he didn't rise, Bifur looked ready to go after Thorin, but the king pinned all of them with a near feral gaze.

"You would prevent me from taking my consort as I choose? Is any one of you still loyal to your king?! We're going now. If any of you try to interfere…it will be the last thing you do."

Bilbo struggled against Thorin's hold on him the entire way to their destination…only the hobbit was slightly shocked to see Thorin had not carried him to their chambers. He had brought him to the treasure vault. Only in that moment did the hobbit of Erebor truly begin to be afraid.

"As I said, Bilbo…you belong to me," Thorin growled as he flung him down on a pile of gold. "Where better to remind you of that fact?"

"Thorin? Thorin, this isn't _you_ ," Bilbo tried to reason with him, unable to see even a glimpse of the dwarf he knew in the king's maddened eyes. "It's _me._ Can't you see me?"

"You talk too much, my consort," Thorin said, sneering as he quickly stripped himself of his clothing. As Bilbo looked into his husband's eyes, he realized that Thorin didn't know him at all. The dwarf he loved was no longer in the room with them. He was trapped somewhere behind those coal black eyes. Finally, Bilbo understood.

"Thorin…my Thorin…I don't know if you can still hear me…but I'm so sorry," Bilbo said softly, lying unresisting as the dwarf tore the clothing from his body. "I saw it…all these years…this thing that's been consuming you…and I did nothing. This is _my_ fault, Thorin…not yours. I don't blame you for this…I want you to know that. I forgive you."

Bilbo didn't struggle as Thorin took him. He tried to lie quiet and accept what he saw as his just punishment for failing to help his love, but he couldn't completely help himself. Thorin was strong, and in his madness violent; he was not holding back now. Bilbo couldn't keep back some of the harsher cries of pain the dwarf king tore from his throat. The cold metal beneath their bodies grew hot as it was painted with blood.

It couldn't have taken anymore than five minutes…the destruction of their bond…but to Bilbo, it seemed to go on for hours…hours of being viciously torn open and broken…until finally his body could bear no more and his mind shut down, sending him into a dark and dreamless sleep.

XxX

The first thing Thorin became aware of was the scent of blood in his nostrils…and the coppery tang of it on his lips. What had happened? Was someone injured? Was _he_ injured? No…he felt no pain…but what…what was…

The answer came to him when his sight returned. He was in the treasure vault. The scent of blood came from beneath him…from where Bilbo lay on a bed of blood-soaked gold coins…unconscious.

"Bilbo!" he cried out in horror. "What…what's _happened?_ Who…who _did_ this?!"

"Thorin," a quiet, but horrified voice called to him from across the vault. He looked up to see his sister and Risling standing there, flanked by the other members of the company, their eyes all wide with shock and horror.

"What have you done?"

"I…I…"

No! It wasn't possible! He couldn't have done this…could he?

That question was answered when he felt the cool air of the vault on his bare skin…and glanced down to see the even more incriminating piece of evidence…his limp cock…covered with blood and semen… _Bilbo's_ blood.

_Mahal…Mahal, have mercy…what did I…how could I…I…Bilbo…mercy…mercy! Why?! What have I done? What have I done?!_ _**What have I done?!** _

Then, Thorin Oakenshield did something he had never done in his life.

He screamed.

The others burst into action around him. Oin and Risling hurried to Bilbo's side, checking the extent of his injuries. Kili retrieved his uncle's discarded coat and used it to cover the halfling's naked form. When Risling gave him the okay, Dwalin lifted him to carry him from the chamber.

Through the flurry of activity, Dis came to him, dropping to her knees beside her distraught older brother. Being gentle, she pulled him into her arms, resting his head against her breast, as if she were their mother. All the while, he cried helplessly.

"Put an axe to me," he begged her. "A sword! An arrow! _Anything!_ I beg you! Please! Kill me for what I've done to him!"

Mirkwood was probably already in ruins…Estel murdered…and in the end, it had all been for nothing. The one he had sold his soul for…the person he loved more than his own life…he had destroyed him. He had sacrificed, struggled, and betrayed…all for nothing.

He had _murdered_ their love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, fellow fans, I hope you enjoyed the fluff I gave you, cuz we're pretty much done with it for a good long while. I did warn you there was going to be Durin torture. Hopefully, I haven't completely turned you off the story.


	8. Temper Our Souls

"I can understand a mother being protective. I can even understand dwarves not liking men, but Risling seems ready to go to war over the issue," Estel said to Legolas as the two of them moved through the corridors of Thranduil's palace. "Why does she hate me so?"

Legolas sighed. "It is said that the dwarf princess lost someone she loved to a gang of men. Risling trusts no man…and if what I've seen is anything to judge by, she never will."

"And of course Fili knows nothing of such loss. A credit to her parents, I suppose…but it also means her mother's pain means nothing to her," Estel said slowly, the pieces all coming together in his head.

"Fili is a child. There is time enough for her to understand."

"Legolas!" Tauriel's voice suddenly sounded from the end of the corridor as she came racing toward them. "My prince! Your father calls for you."

"What's wrong?" he asked the captain of the guard.

"An approaching enemy has been spotted. They are upon us. We are under attack!"

XxX

For a long while, all Bilbo Baggins was aware of was the sensation of floating…but then memory slowly started to return to him…memory and pain.

"Thorin?" he called softly as he slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he spotted was Kili sitting beside his bed, and when the young dwarf saw he was conscious, his face shone with relief.

"He's awake!" he called to the rest of the room. Immediately, several figures surrounded his and Thorin's bed. Risling joined Kili, along with Ori, Bofur, Balin, Oin, and Bifur.

"How are you feeling, Bilbo?" Risling asked him.

"Rather like I was run over by a pack of mad wargs," he answered, trying to smile and not quite succeeding. ""Where…where's Thorin?"

The dwarves all glanced at each other, none of them really sure what to say.

"Bilbo…do…do you remember what happened?" Bofur asked him.

As they all stared uncertainly at him, Bilbo offered the gaggle of dwarves a withering look.

"Of _course_ I remember. You _don't_ need to treat me like some ravaged maid who's in shock. I can handle it. I _know_ what happened. Now where is my husband?"

"Thorin has gone into seclusion…deep beneath the mountain," Balin explained sadly. "He will see no one."

"How…how long has it been?"

"Not long," Ori said. "Only a few hours."

"And…Mirkwood? The elves? Estel?"

"We don't know. There's been no word," Kili said, his expression pained.

"Gods," Bilbo murmured, letting his head rest back on the pillows. "What have we done?"

" _We_ did nothing," Kili said. "We stood back and let the madness take him."

"We are fearful that the madness that took Thorin's father and grandfather has finally laid a hold of Thorin himself," Balin explained.

"No," Bilbo said softly, his eyes going distant. "It isn't gold sickness that's taken him. Something's been consuming him for years. I could see it behind his eyes…but I didn't know what I could possibly do to help him…and now…"

"Lad…you don't have to see him right now…if you don't want to," Balin tried to reassure him. "Nobody would blame you-"

"Let me make this perfectly plain to all of you, right here, right now," Bilbo began firmly, sitting up in bed, even though it pained him greatly to do so. "I don't blame Thorin for any of this. It wasn't his fault. _He_ didn't do this to me…it's whatever it is that's living inside him. Thorin… _my_ Thorin…is still in there somewhere."

"I don't know if he'd agree with you on that," Ori said, looking slightly nervous. "Thorin was…shattered…by what he did. Even if you forgive him to the moon…he still blames himself for what happened."

"Then I'll just have to slap some sense into that thick dwarf," Bilbo said as he tried to stand from the bed.

It didn't work. He wound up right back on the mattress, crying out at the terrible pain along his entire backside.

"I don't think you realize just how badly he hurt you," Bofur said, a trace of anger in his voice. "Well he _should_ feel guilty…for what he's done to you."

Bilbo didn't say anything to this. Clearly, the dwarves had not understood him. _He_ barely understood, so how could he expect them to when he couldn't properly explain himself? The only sickness of the mind his comrades had any experience with was gold sickness…greed. This was something else…something he would have to figure out for himself; and if he couldn't go to Thorin, he would have to wait for Thorin to come to him. It was plain to him that none of the others would take him to the isolated dwarf.

_Thorin…where are you? I_ _**need** _ _you. We can figure this out. I_ _**know** _ _we can. I can help you. You just need to_ _**talk** _ _to me._

XxX

It was less of a battle and more of a massacre. The elves had had no warning and the dark force had swept over Thranduil's fortress before they could even mount a proper defense.

Thranduil, Legolas, Estel, Tauriel, and the last remaining wood elves were battling their way clear of the bridge to mount a retreat, all while protecting Bard's fourteen-year-old son, Bain.

Legolas was just finishing off a particularly large goblin when he saw an orc moving in on Estel, just out of his notice.

"Estel!" he shouted. The young man looked up at him, then quickly ducked. One of the elf prince's twin daggers sailed cleanly over his head and struck the oncoming orc right through the eye. Giving a relieved smile, Estel retrieved the weapon from the fallen orc and tossed it back to his friend. Legolas turned just in time to see his father run through with an orc blade.

Legolas was certain he must have cried out…he could feel it in his throat…the screaming that was tearing his vocal cords ragged…but he could hear nothing. The sounds of battle around him ceased as he raced to catch his father, who slipped awkwardly from the end of the orc weapon. The elf prince took only a moment to plunge his twin blades into the creature's heart before spinning gracefully back to catch his father.

"Ada… _Ada!_ " he cried over and over again as he fell to his knees with Thranduil in his arms.

For a moment, the elf king just looked mildly surprised. There was nothing of pain in his face. In an instant that seemed to last forever, he reached up to touch his son's face.

"It isn't…their fault. Don't…don't carry hate in your heart forever…as I did. Forgive…and carry…carry my love…to Valinor…to your mother…my son," he said softly before the breath left his body and the light left his eyes.

" _ADA!_ " Legolas screamed, shaking him for all he was worth. This couldn't be happening. It just wasn't possible. _No, no, no, no, no, nonononononoNO!_

"Legolas! Come on! We have to move! We need to get out of here _now!_ " Estel shouted at him. "I'm so sorry, mellon nin, but it's too late for your father."

"No!" the distraught prince shouted, still clinging to his father's still body. "Leave me! Just leave me! Go! Leave me!"

"Never!" Estel snarled, seizing the elf prince and pulling him away from Thranduil's body. "Never would I leave you to die; not when you've saved my life so many times. I'm taking you out of here. You can die later."

Then, half-carrying Legolas, Estel dragged him away from the devastated kingdom. Legolas' last sight of his father was to see his body swarmed by orcs.

At the last, Thranduil had begged him to forgive, but Legolas Greenleaf knew he never could. The dwarves had left them to burn…and because of them, nearly everyone he cared for had been slaughtered. He would _always_ hate the dwarves…and he would _never_ forgive them.

XxX

Kili was both relieved and terrified to hear that Legolas was requesting to see the king. Relieved that those in Mirkwood he counted as his friends had survived the slaughter…terrified because he knew they would no longer count him as a friend. As Thorin was still in seclusion, Kili would have to meet with the Mirkwood refugees himself.

Kili didn't dare to sit on the throne; he simply paced before it while he waited…and he could hear it the moment his friend burst through the doors and stormed down the causeway leading to the throne.

"I trust you have a fitting explanation for what's happened," the elf prince seethed, his eyes alight with rage.

"I really don't," Kili said sadly. "Thorin forbade our forces from intervening. There was nothing we could do."

"And you couldn't even send a messenger?"

"We have had…troubles of our own. We fear some sickness has taken hold of the king. He…Bilbo's hurt."

"Hurt?" Estel interrupted from his place beside Legolas. "Will he be all right?"

Kili shook his head. "We aren't sure. He is still confined to his bed…and my uncle is in seclusion."

"Why should I care?!" Legolas continued to rage. "Why should I care if some _dwarf_ lover is injured?"

"Legolas!" Estel began, shocked. "This is _Bilbo_ we're talking about. Our _friend_."

"Your point?" Legolas fired back. "Kili was my friend once, too, but he clearly does not return the sentiment. He left his friends to die."

"What could I do?!" Kili near shouted, pain in his eyes as he raised his hands in a helpless gesture.

"The right thing! Stood against the forces of our enemies! Of a kingdom of thousands, but thirty of us remain alive. We were completely overrun. My father is _dead_ …all because _you_ would not help. 'Never trust an elf,' your people say? It is dwarves, I think, who are not to be trusted," the elf prince hissed at his former friend before turning and sweeping from the throne room. Estel looked torn for several moments before finally offering Kili an apologetic look and following after his friend. That was, unfortunately, not the end of Kili's audiences for the day.

"Kili, what is this madness?" Gandalf demanded as he strode into the throne room just on the heels of Estel's departure. "What has Thorin done?!"

"I don't know. I honestly _don't know!_ " Kili cried out, sinking down on the steps before the throne. "Some sort of madness has taken hold of him. He refused to stand against our enemies…and…last night…he hurt Bilbo."

" _What?_ " the old wizard asked, his voice going quiet in shock.

"He…Thorin _raped_ Bilbo. He went completely out of his mind…and when he awoke to what he'd done, he just…broke. I don't know _what's_ happening to him. Bilbo keeps insisting it wasn't him…who did this…but no one else understands, either. Everything is just…coming undone around us. Gandalf…I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to _do?_ "

A look of pity coming into his eyes, Gandalf slowly lowered himself down beside the young prince. "Where is Thorin now?"

"He has gone into seclusion…deep beneath the mountain. He will see no one."

"Well, the stubborn old dwarf's got to wake to the world sooner or later…and when he does, I'll be waiting to knock some sense into him."

XxX

_My fault, my fault,_ _**my fault!** _

The words repeated themselves in his head, over and over again, like an endless stream.

_My fault, my fault, my fault…_

Everything he had done…everything he had sacrificed…everything had been for nothing! Every time he tried to conceive of a way to rise from these ashes, all he could see was Bilbo's broken body lying beneath him.

" _I forgive you."_

No! How could he?! He had betrayed their love…the vows they'd made to each other. He had taken Bilbo's loyalty, caring, and kind-heartedness, and repaid it with pain and heartbreak. The halfling ought to hate him…but he _forgave_ him!

_You don't deserve such mercy. You deserve to burn in the deepest pits of the world! You deserve torment unending for what you have done! There is no mercy for you anywhere in this world! Not for a crime like_ _**this!** _

The king had sealed himself away within the crypts. As Kili used to do, and still did sometimes, he sat with Fili.

" _I_ should have died that day…not you. None of this would have happened if you had been king. Bilbo would be safe…and Kili wouldn't be suffering so. Why…why did the Valar take your life for mine?"

For a long while, the king under the mountain crouched beside the stone sarcophagus, twisted in his anguish. For a time, he was even able to ignore the pain in his head…the call of his accursed master. When at last, though, he just couldn't bear the horrible shrieking anymore, he was forced to slip the ring on.

_**Thorin,**_ the dark one called to him, his voice in his head strangely soft after the pain of his summons. _**Your task isn't done yet, Thorin Oakenshield.**_

" _What?!_ " he cried out to the darkness. "What more could you possibly want from me?"

_**My agents have informed me Isildur's heir still lives. He may even be in Erebor or Dale right now. You have to finish the task yourself. Kill the boy!** _

" _NOOO!_ " the broken dwarf screamed in anguish. Already, so many were dead because of him. " _NO!_ "

_No more killing! It has to stop!_

_**You know what happens if you fail in this. There need be only one death tonight. It is up to you to decide whose it will be.** _

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Thorin gave in to the void in his heart once more, his blue eyes going black as his soul hid itself from the terrible act he was about to perform.

XxX

Bilbo woke from another fitful sleep to find Gandalf sitting beside his bed. The old wizard smiled when he saw Bilbo was awake.

"Hey," the hobbit said to his old friend, his throat still a little hoarse.

"It's been more than a few years, my dear Bilbo."

"What are you doing here?"

"Disturbing news carried on the wind…and I arrive to find Erebor falling apart. Though…you seem to be the only one who thinks Thorin hasn't simply gone mad."

"He hasn't," Bilbo insisted, barely managing to sit up. "There's nothing simple about it."

"What makes you so certain?"

"Because I _know_ him, Gandalf. I _know_ Thorin. This didn't just happen overnight. Whatever this is…I've seen it behind his eyes for many years now, but I didn't know what I could do to help him. This is just as much my fault as it is his… _more._ Gandalf…what can I do? There _must_ be a way to save him."

Gandalf sighed, his shoulders slumping as he surveyed the hobbit. Even like this, nearly broken, betrayed by his own husband, Bilbo's spirit was still somehow unquenchable…but the wizard feared that spirit would be tested and tried…perhaps even beyond the halfling's limits…before this was over.

"I fear you are quite correct, Bilbo. Something has been eating away at Thorin Oakenshield's heart ever since the reclaiming of Erebor. I had my suspicions…on the day you came back to us, but I was never able to discover anything."

"And you still…have no idea what it might be?"

"I have a theory…a theory that has only grown stronger with the fall of Mirkwood. These lands have been dark since Dale was brought low. I will have to confront Thorin myself if I'm to learn if my thinking is correct."

"What _are_ you thinking?"

"I would not dare to risk revealing it. Even the shadows have ears. Sleep now, dear hobbit. Regain your strength. Hopefully, I shall come to you with good news," Gandalf said as he laid a hand on Bilbo's forehead. Almost immediately, he dropped back to sleep and the wizard rose from his chair, foreboding in his heart as he departed the royal bedchamber.

XxX

Thorin kept to the darkness when he crept from his hiding place. Some force seemed to conceal him as he moved through the corridors of his kingdom. Still wearing the ring of power, he was hardly himself any longer.

It wasn't difficult to find where the ranger and the elf prince were sleeping. In fact, the two of them were sleeping in the same bed, which Thorin was too far gone to even question. All of his grief, pain, and guilt had been replaced with intense, dark focus…and he didn't feel even a moment's hesitation as he raised Orcrist over the young captain's heart.

Legolas had awoken from his uneasy sleep upon sensing the presence approaching their bed. When he saw the flash of the blade in the dim light from the corridor, he barely had time to draw his own blades, catching the downward strike between them. Looking up, his sharp eyes picked out Thorin's face in the dark.

" _You!_ " Legolas snarled. "You _dare_ to harm Estel? You _dare?!_ "

Estel, of course, had been awakened by the clash of metal. By the time he had managed to arm himself, it had turned into an all out battle.

"First you take my father! Now you would take Estel from me, as well?! He who is dearer than _brother!_ I'll make you pay, dwarf!"

Legolas had his rage on his side, but Thorin had focus, an intent so fierce, it was almost unearthly. It didn't take much for him to get the upper hand. Just as he was about to strike a fatal blow, the chamber was flooded with light.

"Stay this madness!" Gandalf's voice came behind the blaze of light. Instantly, he was between the elf prince and the dwarf king, blocking Orcrist with his staff. Thorin's look of intense focus was then replaced by an insane smile.

"Ah…little Olorin. How long has it been?"

"So it _was_ you. It's been you all along."

"Yes. Your little dwarf friend has been quite useful to me."

"Leave him be, Mairon. Your servant will not long survive direct possession."

Thorin-who-wasn't hissed at the sound of the name. "Perhaps you are right, but then…perhaps he has outlived his usefulness."

Gandalf knew by this he had only moments to act. Zeroing in on the source of the link, he tore the ring from Thorin's finger and flung it across the room. Clutching his head and screaming in agony, Thorin fell to his knees…but it seemed yet a little of the dark one remained, for he turned those same maddened, joyful eyes on Estel one last time.

"Know this, child of Numenor…no matter how many obstacles your protectors put between us, I _will_ have your blood!"

With that, the dark power vanished and Thorin finally collapsed, dropping to the floor as if dead, eyes wide and staring. Estel and Legolas were too much in shock to do anything, but Gandalf jumped into action…albeit slowly and somewhat weakened.

"Mithrandir…was…was that-"

"Yes, Legolas. It was exactly who you are thinking. We will concern ourselves with that momentarily, though," the drained wizard said, focusing his attention on Thorin, gently laying a hand to his forehead. "Come on, you fool of a dwarf. Come all the way about."

Thorin came awake with a start, blinking rapidly and gasping for breath.

"Gandalf?" he breathed, gripping the wizard's hand. "What- what are you…what did I…?" That was when he looked over and saw Estel looking at him…and remembered what he'd meant to do. "Oh…oh, no."

"You meant to kill the last hope of the free people," Gandalf accused him.

"I had no choice."

"You gave yourself freely to our enemy!"

"I had _no choice!_ " Thorin repeated, trying to sit up and failing.

"There is _always_ a choice, Thorin Oakenshield."

"No…not here. If I hadn't done it…Bilbo would have died. I _couldn't_ let him die!"

"Oh," Gandalf started, pity tightening his features as he realized what had happened. "Thorin…Thorin…"

"These thirteen years I have had no choice but to obey his will…and if I fail in this task tonight, I will lose him forever…if he is not already lost."

"You underestimate your hobbit, king under the mountain. Bilbo is recovering. He is quite aware something is wrong and only wants to help. He does not blame you for what has happened."

"The _fool_ ," Thorin hissed, only just managing to sit up.

"You realize, of course, that we cannot allow you to complete this evil deed."

"Then what am I to do, Wizard?" Thorin growled at him.

"I should think the solution to your problem is simple. For all the strength you have witnessed, Sauron is still weak. He is only an active force in the world through his servants. Bilbo is in danger only so long as _you_ are near him. If you remove yourself from him, your master will not be able to touch him. So…either you send Bilbo away, or…"

"Or remove myself from the picture," Thorin said slowly, seeing the logic of it. He had no right to ask Bilbo to leave. His husband had a place here, and he would probably be willing to brave the danger anyway. But…to remove _himself_ from the picture…to go to a place where he could not hurt his dear little love anymore…yes. He would give up Erebor for that. He would give up everything he had been born to. Most painful and enduring of all, though…in order to keep him safe…he would give _Bilbo_ up.

"Yes…you are right. I must go into exile…in order to mend what I have broken. Kili shall be king under the mountain after me."

"There is a place you can live out your exile…perhaps the wounds inflicted on you by the shadow may yet be healed."

Thorin sighed as Gandalf helped him to his feet. "I would prefer punishment, Gandalf, but if you have some use for me, I will accept it. How long do I have before he returns?"

"A few hours yet. He is still weak enough I could cast him back with the use of his true name, but we'd best not dawdle, all the same."

"So," Legolas started, finally gathering his thoughts enough to speak, "this is what my people…my _father_ …died for? I think…maybe I understand you a little better, Thorin Oakenshield. It does not mean I forgive you."

"I do not ask for it, elf prince. To be taken by orcs is not a death I would wish on any decent being…not even Thranduil. I would ask forgiveness even less from you, Estel," he said, turning to face the ranger, who still looked a little stricken. "I am deeply sorry for what I meant to do to you. I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to look on me again."

"No," the young captain said softly. "I do not blame you for it. I can understand…doing the unthinkable for love. Go and be healed, king under the mountain."

"Healed?" Thorin repeated, a bitter laugh escaping his throat. "First I must say goodbye to Kili…and tell him he is king."

XxX

Kili and Risling were both awakened by the sound of the door to their quarters opening. Neither had slept much the last few nights, but had not yet reached a point of exhaustion that they could sleep deeply, so they were both sitting up in bed when Thorin walked into the chamber, followed by Balin, Dwalin, and Dis.

"Uncle! You…you're…what's happened?"

"Kili…sister-son…there is no easy way to tell you this, so I suppose I must just out with it. I am abdicating my crown and going into exile. You will become king under the mountain in my place."

"You…I… _what?_ " Kili asked, not quite sure he'd heard right.

"In the morning, you will be crowned king of this realm."

"But… _why?_ " Kili demanded, still uncomprehending.

"I go into exile as punishment for my sins."

"Even though some of us do not agree he need go that far," Dis said, glowering at her older brother.

"Uncle, I…I can't do this. I'm not _ready._ "

"Yes, you are," Thorin insisted as he knelt beside the bed, placing a hand on Kili's knee. "You knew what was right, even when I was blind. You are honest, noble, and compassionate. You will regain the honor I have sullied with my actions. You are the leader Erebor needs. I have brought shame to my grandfather's throne ever since I took it. You will not. You will bring pride back to Durin's folk. I believe in you, Kili."

"As do I," Risling said, resting her own hand on her husband's shoulder. Kili glanced toward her, seeing only pride and encouragement in her eyes. Laying a hand atop hers in order to join them, the king-to-be then looked to Dis.

"Mother?"

Dis sighed, but still offered her youngest child a proud smile. "While I do not agree with my brother's decision…and you _are_ a little young for it…I _do_ believe you are ready to be king. You will make our family proud. You will make your _brother_ proud."

Smiling bitterly in both pain and joy as he remembered his golden-haired brother, Kili finally nodded. "All right. I will do it."

"Is there any sort of…rite that needs to be observed?" Risling asked.

"Well…this is a completely unprecedented situation," Balin began to explain. "We have never had a new king come to the throne while the old one still lived. Thorin means to leave us before the night is over. He only wanted to be able to tell you of this himself."

"But…where will you go?" Kili asked the soon-to-be-former king.

"Somewhere I can do no harm."

"Bilbo…doesn't blame you for what happened, you know?"

A pained look crossed Thorin's face at this. "I know that…but he should. I want him…to be able to heal. It's best if I'm just forgotten."

"Bilbo will not forget…and you don't know him very well if you think he will. And…what are we to tell everyone else?"

"Tell them I have gone mad. Cast me out. Curse my name. This kingdom needs to move on from what I've done. You will be their hope now, Kili. I have every confidence in you."

Before Kili could say anything more, Thorin rose from the floor and headed out of the chamber.

" _Has_ he gone mad?" Kili asked the others. "It makes no sense."

"Nor does it make sense to any of us, lad…but while he is still king, we must obey his will, and he will be king until you are crowned. Guilt is a heavy thing," Balin said, his tone sorrowful.

"Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Thorin has chosen this way himself," Dis answered. "We can do nothing but allow him to find his own path."

XxX

Thorin Oakenshield was much changed when he crept silently back into the chamber he'd once shared with Bilbo just before dawn. He was grateful to see the hobbit was fast asleep.

Moving to his desk, Thorin laid down a letter for his husband, along with a thick braid of hair, recently cut from his head and face.

Dis had cut his hair and shaved his beard for him. Thorin had kept only one braid, a thin one that trailed from behind his right ear. He would go into the Wild shorn of all but this one last piece of his heritage. Dis was the only one he'd told the whole truth to. He didn't want any of the others to know…especially not Bilbo.

Thorin didn't want to look on his husband before he left him, but he found he couldn't help himself. His gaze was drawn to the hobbit, who was very deep asleep. The damage that had been done was hidden beneath the blankets; though he imagined Bilbo was still in pain, he actually looked…peaceful. Hesitantly, Thorin reached out to stroke his cheek.

The former king had managed to hold himself together since being awakened from his trance…held his head high through all the difficult events of the night…but this was the one thing he could not bear…saying goodbye to Bilbo.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he knelt beside the bed, silent tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry…for what I did to you. Please…don't bind yourself to this. Be free of me."

Thorin wasn't sure how long he knelt there, silently weeping, but he finally forced himself to bend over Bilbo and press a feather-light kiss to his lips.

"For all our life…and until death…together shall we be," he whispered, choking back his tears.

"From now…eternity…" Bilbo mumbled in his sleep.

"Goodbye, my love," he whispered before backing out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, I don't feel this chapter is all it could be…but what do you all think? Did I get to anybody with this one?


	9. The Sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry it's been so long since my last update. The plot bunnies have been nibbling at my brain. Heh, plot bunnies? No. Try plot wargs. Although, I must say, all the love this lil baby's been getting recently does make me quite cheerful. I love all you readers so much right now. Hopefully, there's still at least one or two people reading this story.

"Thorin?" Bilbo called the moment he snapped awake. Even though he found the room empty, he felt almost certain his husband had been there.

It didn't take the hobbit long to feel that something was wrong, though, and that feeling was solidified in his gut when he saw the letter and the thick braid on Thorin's desk. Feeling fear grip his heart, Bilbo struggled to climb out of bed and get to the desk, even though each move hurt his still healing body. He collapsed against the desk upon reaching it, tearing at the letter with shaking fingers. As he'd feared, it was from Thorin…addressed to his dear little thief.

_Dearest Bilbo,_

_There are no words in any tongue that can express the grief and guilt I feel over what I have done to you. I can say only that I am sorry. I would beg for death at your hands, but death would be too easy…too merciful. Then I would not have to live with the torment of the crime I have committed against you. You…Bilbo…my love…you who are more precious than gold…dearer than breath. There can be no mercy for what I've done._

_It isn't just you I've hurt, either. My crimes are too numerous to count, and I can no longer pretend to live in the light. Thus I send myself into exile and pass my throne into Kili's keeping. I pray you will remain in the home I so loved and live out your days in peace. Know that even though I will always think of you as my husband and will remain faithful to you unto my dying breath, I hereby release you from our vow, to find love as you choose. Find someone who is worthy of you…someone who will love and care for you…protect you as I could not. At the last, I only want you to know that what I have done, I have done to protect you. I have only ever thought of you, despite how it may seem. Even if I have broken your heart, know that you will always have mine, Bilbo Baggins. I love you._

_For all our life…and until death…together shall we be._

_Forever yours,_

_Thorin_

Bilbo wasn't even aware he was crying until a strangled sob escaped his throat. Hot tears spilled down his face as he clutched the letter and the braid in white fists.

"You fool," he choked out, the words echoing vaguely in the empty room. "You _utter fool!_ "

The hobbit wasn't certain how long it took him to master his tears, but in that time, the grief, hurt, and despair morphed into anger. How could Thorin just _leave him_ like this?! Even though he could barely walk, he started to head out of their chamber, meaning to track down someone who could give him answers.

Luckily, he met up with Bofur not too far from his quarters, who'd clearly been on his way to check on him. Bofur's face went white when he saw him.

"Bilbo! What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting!" he insisted as he came to support him.

"Don't you _dare_ take me back to bed!" Bilbo snarled. "Take me to Balin. He'll be able to explain this."

Rather than argue with the incensed hobbit, Bofur just nodded, helping him to the chamber where Kili was being prepared for his coronation. All were shocked to see him on his feet, but before anyone could speak, Bilbo turned his fury on Balin.

"What _is_ this madness?!" he demanded.

Balin sighed. "I believe Thorin left you a letter, lad."

"No. _This. Right here!_ " Bilbo pressed, seizing the old dwarf's hand and wrapping it around the braid. "What does _this_ mean?!"

Balin's sightless eyes went wide when he realized what he was holding. All the other dwarves seemed shocked at the sight of it.

"Is this…the act of shearing?" Balin asked, pain in his voice.

"It is," Dis explained calmly. "Thorin left these halls with but one braid."

"What does that _mean?_ " Bilbo continued to press, tearing the braid away from Balin and turning to Dis, who remained calm in the face of his anger.

"This is what a dwarf does when he loves…but cannot be with his love. The single braid is the torch he carries for the one he cannot be with…a sign to all of his undying love. Thorin left this braid with you, Bilbo Baggins, as a sign that you hold everything he is," Dis explained.

"But _why?!_ " Bilbo shouted. "Why would he do this? Why didn't you stop him?!"

"There was nothing we could say to dissuade him. The decision was his," Balin said.

"So…what? Does he expect me to just sit home like a good little hobbit? Pretend none of this ever happened?"

"I imagine he hoped for that…but I don't think anyone actually believes it will happen," Dis said, offering her in-law a sad smile.

"Well, this…this is just ridiculous!" Bilbo spluttered. "I…I'll go find him. I'll drag him back myself if I have to."

"Find him _where?_ " Bofur suddenly broke in, a look of uncharacteristic anger on his face. "You don't know where he's gone to; _no one_ does, and do I need to remind you you can hardly walk? How far do you expect to get, Bilbo Baggins?"

Bilbo was ready to have it out with his friend…but then he saw the worry that Bofur's anger was trying to hide. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Bofur…I understand you're concerned, but…I can't just turn my back on him. I can't let it end like this. He claims he did what he did to protect me…well…somebody's got to protect Thorin Oakenshield from himself. If this is anything to do with me, I should have some say in it. He's been alone for so long. I can't let him fight alone anymore."

"But where will you _go?_ " Bofur repeated. "He didn't tell us where he was going for a reason."

"Anywhere. Everywhere. I'll search until I find him," Bilbo said, his face set with determination, even though they were all fairly certain he was about to collapse.

"You are a good hobbit, Master Baggins. I don't know that you will ever cease to amaze us," Dis said, smiling wearily at him. "My brother chose well. I believe you will lead him out of the darkness."

"I take it you'll be waiting until you're properly healed before setting off?" Risling put in. Bilbo shook his head, sighing.

"Unfortunately, yes. I won't be much good to anyone if I can't walk. I'd also like to see you and Kili become king and queen."

"Well, that could probably be arranged within the hour or so," Kili said, smiling, even though he still looked nervous.

XxX

The sun had barely risen over the Lonely Mountain, so the throne room was lit with torches, rather than with natural, mirror-reflected light. Kili found that the deep shadows of the chamber only served to make him that much more nervous as he walked down the causeway with Risling at his side. He had walked this same path many times in the last thirteen years, but it had never seemed so long before. Part of him wanted to reach out and take Risling's hand, but he knew he couldn't do that until the time was right. He needed to stand on his own for this.

Dis and Balin were standing on the dais at the end of the causeway. As the current eldest of the house of Durin, Balin would have been the one to perform the crowning ceremony, as he'd done for Thorin, but certain tasks would prove difficult because of his blindness, so Dis was stepping in to help.

The soon-to-be-king was comforted by the sight of his mother at the end of the long walk, but there was only so much comfort to be had in a moment like this. Kili could feel the thrum of chanting at the very core of his being. The assembled dwarves of Erebor were all chanting wordlessly…a younger song, as far as the dwarven race went, their melody in exile and torment…and the hum of it took Kili back to a night long ago in a cozy hobbit hole…back when he'd been little more than a child and his brother had still been at his side.

_Fili…it should be_ _**you** _ _…not me. I don't know if I can do this._

When he and Risling reached the end of the causeway, they both knelt before the throne, joining hands and lowering their heads before the seat of power.

Dis carried a ceremonial axe and when she raised it above her head, the hall immediately fell silent.

"Who is it that would be the king of Durin's Folk?" Balin asked, his voice carrying to all corners of the hall.

"It is I," Kili answered, his voice much stronger and louder than he actually felt.

"And who is it that bears the blood of Durin in his veins, untainted?"

"It is I," Kili continued, trying to recall how Thorin had done this thirteen years ago. Had Thorin _ever_ known fear?

"And who is it that would be this dwarf's consort?"

"It is I," Risling answered.

At this, Dis approached her son, lowering the axe and laying the blade against his throat. Kili felt the sharp edge against his defenseless neck and knew just how easily it could cut his throat. He held completely still.

"Kili, son of Vili son of Valin, it is a grave responsibility you take upon your young shoulders today. To be the king of Durin's Folk will be to have the axe constantly at your neck…to walk the line between sanity and madness. It is power…but if you do not hold respect for that power and the people that power protects, you will be consumed…as many before you have been. Therefore…if you cannot uphold the name of Durin…if you cannot bind yourself to this throne and put your people before yourself…you would do best to cut your throat now."

For the fleetest of moments…Kili considered it. It would be so easy…to lay his neck down on the sharp blade and let it pierce through skin and muscle…to suffer only briefly as his hot life blood flowed onto the steps…then…maybe…to know peace. Maybe this fear and uncertainty would end…maybe the grief that was even now with him would stop…and maybe…maybe he could be with Fili again. It was all his for the taking…except…

…except what would become of his own dear little Fili? What of Risling and Zel? What would their lives be if he were to just let go? If he were to just leave them to their fate, he would never be able to face his brother. He would never be able to face himself. His family still needed him. Risling had eased his pain greatly, but in this moment, he was forced to acknowledge that this soul deep ache would always be with him. It would never truly go away…and he would have to bear it for the sake of the people he still loved…and who loved him. So, for their sake…for Fili's bright smile, Risling's strong heart, and Zel's joyful laughter…Kili finally looked to his mother.

"I will not falter. I will not fail. I will be strong as the stone from which we were first crafted. Take from me this coward's way out."

Kili could see the relief in his mother's eyes as she lifted the axe away. He knew that she had seen he'd considered it. They would never speak of it, but it was enough to know that he had _not_ made that choice. As Balin continued speaking, Dis set aside the axe and went to retrieve the old stone crown from where it rested on the throne, bringing it to Kili and resting its cold weight on his brow.

"Long ago, when the world was young, Durin beheld a vision of a crown of stars atop his head, reflected in the waters of Kheled-zaram, even in the light of day. The weight of that vision has been borne by every one of his sons since and will continue to be borne until the world is broken. With the weight of us all, of all who have gone before and all who will come after…rise, young king and join your forebears."

At this, Dis stepped aside, allowing Kili and Risling to move to their places on the dais. Dis then moved to Balin's side and rested a hand on his shoulder. With this signal, the old dwarf announced, "Dwarves of Erebor, I present to you Kili, son of Vili son of Valin, King Under the Mountain."

Cheers erupted throughout the hall at this…and Kili looked out on the sight, still not quite believing it. Even when he had officially been named Thorin's heir, he had not truly believed he would ever stand here…in this place that was meant for his brother. He would have to do his best in Fili's place.

_Dear brother…I still don't believe I can do this. I will need you to guide me. I still need you…to help me be strong and to do the right thing. Be with me now, Fili._

Then, almost as if his brother had heard him, Kili felt certainty ignite in his heart. He knew what he needed to do today in order to begin this the right way.

"Trying times lie ahead for our people," he proclaimed to the citizens. "Darkness has come out of the East and my uncle, the former king, has succumbed to the madness which consumed several of our forebears. But we will not give into this darkness. The Dwarves of Durin's Folk are strong and we will never surrender to this shadow. So long as there are enemies at our gates, we will _fight them!_ We will not allow these black soldiers of Mordor to roam across these lands unchallenged. For our allies…for everyone these foul creatures have murdered…we will _destroy them!_ " he roared to the sounds of thunderous cheering.

As Kili took it all in, he felt a kind of determination he'd never felt before…a courage born of loss and anger. He remembered the faces of his friends…those few who had survived the slaughter of Mirkwood…their hurt and betrayal. He remembered the sight of his uncle breaking…and Bilbo's broken body lying on a pile of cold, unfeeling metal. And he remembered the pale orc who had slaughtered his brother. Too long he had been powerless to save what he loved. No more! He would not lose even one more person he cared for to this darkness…and with this vow, he could almost swear he felt Fili standing at his side once more. Smiling faintly, he turned to look at Risling.

"They are with us," he said softly and she somehow heard through the roar of the crowd.

"They are. I _know_ he's proud of you. _I'm_ proud of you," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his forehead. Then, amidst the cheers of their people, the new king and queen moved steadily back down the causeway. Fili and Zel were waiting for them.

XxX

Thorin and Gandalf traveled with Legolas, Estel, and the other surviving elves of Mirkwood, as they were all heading in about the same direction. Although, they would all have to admit it was the strangest journey any of them had ever partaken in. Thorin and the elves ignored each other, not out of any sense of anger or hatred, but more because they no longer knew how to deal with each other. Meanwhile, Gandalf and Estel were in the middle of things, also uncertain how to handle the situation.

The group journeyed around the southern border of Mirkwood, rather than risk journeying through it. By the time they reached the western border, Gandalf was well looking forward to the group finally splitting up.

After all the trouble taken to avoid entering Mirkwood, Thorin was somewhat surprised when Gandalf dismounted his horse and beckoned him to follow him into the wood.

"Do you mean to punish me after all? Give me over to the foul creatures of this hideous forest?" he asked as he climbed down from his pony. He did not cherish the memory of his first journey into Mirkwood.

"Have care how you speak of my home, dwarf," Legolas warned, glaring at the former king.

"You ought not think of this place as your home, Legolas," Gandalf said, his eyes casting about for any signs of danger. "The Greenwood that was is fading."

"So what exactly do you expect to find here, then?" Thorin pressed.

"You remember my brother wizard, Radagast? I'm taking you to him."

"Ah," Thorin started, vaguely recalling the brown wizard.

"Thorin," Estel called to him, climbing down from his own mount. "I do not know when we will meet again, so…I just wanted to thank you."

Thorin laughed bitterly at this. "For what? The blade I nearly put through your heart?"

"No. For your friendship. You accepted me into your home, even though you had no reason to. You are truly noble and it has been my honor to be your friend. What you have done…well…you did it out of love. I will never blame you for it and I will always be the first to your defense. I only hope that when next we meet, you will have been eased of some of your burden," he said, moving forward to embrace the former king.

Thorin accepted his embrace, feeling his breath hitch faintly in his throat. Estel was young…like Kili…but he was brave, true, and good…and he would have killed him. He had not earned this forgiveness, not in his own eyes, at least, but he accepted it nonetheless.

"Thank you, Aragorn. You are truly a son of kings and the world would have been a great deal less bright had I succeeded in my intentions. It is my hope for you that you will come into your true name in time. Farewell, prince of the North," he said, moving off to join Gandalf.

"Farewell…King Under the Mountain."

Thorin flinched at the words, but he didn't look back as he followed Gandalf into the forest. He knew they were meant with nothing but respect.

"What exactly do you hope to gain from this?" Thorin asked as they moved through the shadowed eves of the wood.

"You may not have noticed this, but I've been shielding your mind as we've been traveling. Surely you've wondered why you haven't heard the whispers at your back. Sauron cannot connect to you directly unless you wear the ring of power. I take it he has ways of…coercing you to put it on."

"That is so," Thorin said quietly, shuddering at the memory of old pain. It was the reason why he'd kept the ring with him; for if it left his possession, it would surely fall back into his master's hands…and if that happened the Dark One would almost certainly use it to bind Kili to him…to possess the new king under the mountain and seduce his still-grieving heart with promises of the one he loved the most returning from death. He _would not_ let this monster touch Kili.

"It is that which I have shielded you from, but I have neither the time nor the energy to shield you constantly, especially with the enemy's power growing. I am leaving you with Radagast in the hope he might be able to teach you how to shield yourself."

"What? Do you mean with…magic?" Thorin asked, somewhat confounded. So far as he knew, the line of Durin had not a drop of magic blood, so he couldn't guess how that was going to work.

"Not so much, no. It isn't a matter of magic; it's a matter of mental strength. You must build your mind up so that he cannot use the connection between you. If you can manage this, he will lose interest with time."

"And the old wizard…can teach me?"

"Better than the rest of us, I'd wager. Radagast prefers not to use his power. His strength comes from his own body…and from the earth he so loves. Perhaps, Thorin Oakenshield, if you can master this technique, you will be able to see your husband again."

Thorin said nothing to this. The thought stung his fragile heart and the hope was just too frail for him to allow himself to grasp it.

"So long as I am not hurting people anymore, I will be content."

"Well, he can certainly help you with that. Ah, here we are," Gandalf said as they entered a clearing. At first, Thorin thought he was looking at a tree, but as he looked it over, he began to see the dwelling emerge from it. The tree had essentially taken over what used to be a cottage. The brown wizard came puttering out what looked to be the front door mere moments after they'd entered his clearing.

"Ah, Gandalf, I thought you'd be a little longer. Good to see you again."

"Radagast," Gandalf called to him, fondly resting a hand on his shoulder. "I have brought you a pupil, old friend."

"Mm, yes…the dwarf with no hair," Radagast said, looking the former king over several times without saying anything. Just when Thorin felt he might have to explode with the utter silence that filled the clearing, Radagast spoke up again. "Well, this will certainly be quite the nut to crack, if I do say so myself…and I do," he said, scratching his head and nearly upsetting his hat. "Tell me, Thorin Oakenshield…have you ever attended a hedgehog festival?"

For a moment, Thorin was so surprised, all he could do was stare at the wizard with his mouth slightly agape. "Ah…no. I cannot…say as I have."

Radagast clapped his hands together gleefully. "Dear me, this will be quite educational for you."

"Are you sure about this?" Thorin asked quietly, glancing at Gandalf out of the corner of his eye as Radagast moved off toward another part of the clearing.

"Absolutely. Radagast is a better wizard than most give him credit for. I hope you remember this day, Thorin…for there will come a day when you truly see him and you will regret ever having doubted."

"Well…far be it from me to doubt _you_ …to doubt _anyone_ , really," Thorin said, his gaze following the brown wizard as he twittered about the clearing.

"Farewell, Thorin Oakenshield. Learn well. I imagine the world will be much changed when next we meet," Gandalf said as he turned to go.

"Gandalf," Thorin started, stopping the grey wizard with a hand on his arm. "Thank you for this…truly."

Gandalf chuckled faintly, nodding at the dwarf before heading back into the forest. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard him mutter, "To think that I should live to see Thorin Oakenshield thankful. Gracious me."

"So," Radagast's voice suddenly sounded in his ear. It took all Thorin's control not to jump. "Gandalf's put you with me."

"Yes," Thorin said slowly, still not certain what to think of the old wizard.

"Well, I suppose we had best get started, then. Tell me, do you prefer mushrooms or tree bark?"

Once again, all Thorin could manage to do for several minutes was blink.

He was going to be here for a while.

XxX

On the day Kili led the dwarves of Erebor against the orcs that had overrun the elven kingdom, he was almost surprised to discover that he felt no fear. On the night before the battle for the mountain, he had been terrified. Even Fili had hardly been able to console him. He even now remembered how they'd lain together, unable to sleep for fear of the hopeless fight they were facing. What if he had known then…that it was to be the last night he ever spent with his brother? Might he have done things differently?

" _Did you ever think about…tomorrow never coming?" Fili asked him. The two of them were huddled together on Fili's bedroll, clinging to each other more fiercely than they ever had before._

" _Sometimes," he answered softly, vaguely meeting his brother's gaze. "I don't…really think about myself dying, though. What…what really scares me…is the thought of_ _ **you**_ _dying."_

" _Oh, Kili…"_

" _I don't know what I would do. I don't think I could handle it," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper._

" _Well, then…I promise not to die, but you have to promise me, too. I couldn't…live without you, Nadadith," Fili whispered to him, gently stroking his hair, his gaze shifting slightly down._

" _Oh, I won't be dying," Kili tried to joke. "In fact, I have this nasty feeling that I'll be living much longer than I want to. Strange."_

" _Promise me," Fili demanded quietly, his eyes fierce as he gazed into Kili's. "You_ _ **must not**_ _die."_

" _All right. I promise I won't die. Are you happy?"_

_Sighing, Fili shook his head as he rolled away from Kili. Then he sat up, facing away from him. "No. Ki…Kili, I…there's something I haven't…I never…I cannot…oh, Kili, I just don't know," he said, his voice leaving his throat in a hiss as he drew his knees up to his chest._

" _Fili…what's wrong?" he asked, moving to kneel behind his brother and place his hands on his shoulders._

" _There's something I want to tell you…that I should have told you a long time ago…but I don't…I can't…I don't know_ _ **how**_ _," he said. When Kili peeked around, he could see that Fili's face was streaked with silent tears._

" _You know you can tell me anything," he tried to soothe, hugging his brother tightly from behind. Fili shook his head again._

" _This is different…little Kili."_

" _Hey! You promised you wouldn't call me that anymore, you stupid orc," he protested, rubbing the side of his face affectionately against Fili's. "After all, I_ _ **am**_ _taller than you."_

" _Which makes it even funnier," Fili said, chuckling and weeping all at once._

" _Fili…really…what's the matter?" he asked again._

_Drawing several shuddering breaths, Fili finally turned to face him, his eyes puffy and slightly bloodshot. "You know what? I'll tell you tomorrow…after we've won. We'll find a cask of mead, get drunk off our victory…then I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything."_

" _But…what if-"_

" _None of that, baby brother," Fili said, cuddling back up with him. "We have promised not to die, after all."_

The one promise his brother had not kept. A lifetime of being completely faithful and true to each other…and he couldn't keep one stinking promise not to die…not to be gutted by an orc weapon and die while he was unconscious…so that he couldn't even say goodbye…couldn't…couldn't even have those precious last words.

At first, he hadn't allowed himself to think about it…what Fili had wanted to say to him. In fact, he had largely forced himself to block out the memory. He didn't think he could bear it…but then Risling had had her dream of him.

_If I ever see you again, I will say…the words I could not say seven years ago._

It had now been _thirteen_ years since that time…and even though Fili had left him cold and broken, he had also left him fearless. Because of Fili's death, he now realized, he feared no enemy. He feared no army of thousands. He did not fear death, and that made him a hideously fierce warrior. The only thing that fueled his actions was a cold, hard fury…a raging desire to wipe the creature known as orc from the face of existence…and every orc that met his blade and his arrows knew that rage in the moment of their death.

Watching the new king under the mountain fight was almost like watching a dance. Kili moved fluidly through every attack, stopping for nothing and never failing to hit his mark. Never once did his warriors doubt that their king was made of something more…that he was _born_ to lead them.

 _Be with me now, Fili,_ the young king prayed as he cut through the orcs like a sickle through wheat.

"Kili!" he heard Dwalin shout the warning, looking up just in time to block an orc's blade from entering his skull. Their enemy was mostly in retreat now, but a few stubborn clusters still carried on the fight, and Kili's current opponent was particularly stubborn. The foul creature actually managed to get in a good slash with a knife just above his right eye. The stretch forward left his enemy open, though, and Kili pressed his advantage, plunging his blade into the orc's gut and slicing outward to spill his intestines.

The orc didn't die right away. For a moment, he just lay shrieking in a pool of his own innards before the young king finally put the blade through his heart, spitting on the creature's remains as he did so.

 _Die! Just like he did!_ _ **All of you!**_ The malicious thought claimed his heart as he turned to search for more foes, even though his sight was somewhat impaired by the blood running into his right eye.

The only group that remained had surrounded Dwalin, though he seemed to be holding his own fairly well…until an orc mace caught him in the neck, sending him sprawling to the floor. Kili saw, but knew the older dwarf was much too far down the corridor for him to reach in time. The two orcs that remained readied their killing blows.

Kili's heart screamed in agony and defiance. Again. _Again!_ It would happen again! He would lose another part of his family! Reaching behind him, he desperately searched his quiver, but found it empty. No. No! _NO!_

Casting about, the very next thing his gaze fell on was his last opponent…and the quiver at his back, still filled with black-feathered arrows.

Kili snatched an arrow, moving past reason and time. There was no way this should work. His sight was impaired…and it was an orc arrow…not made for a dwarf bow…and yet, was he not the greatest archer ever to come out of Ered Luin? Had Fili not told him so? And with Fili's faith…all things were possible.

 _Be with me now, Nadad,_ he prayed once more as he fired the black arrow, his aim true, despite the projectile's greater size and his limited sight. The arrow struck the first orc through the left eye, sending him reeling back and shocking the second enough for Kili to take aim with a second arrow, sending this one through his foe's heart.

A cheer went up as Kili raced to Dwalin's side, but he hardly noticed it.

"Are you all right?" Kili demanded as he crashed to his knees beside the old warrior.

"Leave off, lad. I'm fine," Dwalin said, not completely managing to shrug him off as he struggled to sit up. Then he smirked faintly as he looked around. "Seems to me we've won."

Only then did Kili look up and see the throngs of dwarves cheering. They were cheering…for _him._

"Kili! Kili! Kili! To Kili! To the king! He who turns the weapons of the enemies back upon themselves! Black arrow! Blackarrow! To the sign of the Blackarrow! Kili Blackarrow! Kili Blackarrow! King Under the Mountain!"

For a moment, Kili felt almost helpless beneath the adulation. He found himself thinking…this must have been how it happened with Thorin…after Azanulbizar…and he suddenly realized that, like his uncle before him…he _was_ a king…despite everything that told him he couldn't possibly be. Not until this moment had he truly believed it. He was king of Durin's Folk…forged in the heat of battle and the ice of grief. As his warriors raised him above their heads, cheering the victory, he still had no idea what to feel.

_How did it come to this?_

XxX

Estel, Legolas, and the other Mirkwood refugees hadn't been living in Loth Lorien long when reports of the battle for Mirkwood began to trickle in. Estel came to Legolas one morning with a rather large smile on his face.

"They say that the new king under the mountain has won a great victory against the orcs who have overrun your home. Kili, son of Vili son of Valin. He has driven the orcs from your city."

"But not driven them out of Mirkwood entirely?" Legolas pressed, not looking up from a map of old Beleriand he was looking over.

"No, but that is a task that will take a good deal more than just one battle. Can you not give Kili _some_ credit? He is _trying_ to right Thorin's wrongs."

"A little late," the elf prince said, still unwilling to let go of his anger. "Now that he is king, he suddenly has the wherewithal to act? What was preventing him before?"

"That isn't fair and you know it. No decent being would betray the man he looked to as king. Besides, isn't he better late than not at all? If given the chance, the dwarves of Erebor may yet drive the sickness from Greenwood."

Sighing, Legolas finally pushed the map aside, raising his hands to his temples to try and massage away the ache he felt coming on…but Estel quickly moved in and began to do it for him.

"It will not help you to hold onto this hatred for your friend," he soothed, rubbing gently at the elf's temples. "It will turn you into something you are not…Legolas…and I don't want to see that happen."

"I still don't know whether Kili is my friend or not," Legolas returned, closing his eyes in a brief moment of bliss as he laid his own hands over Estel's. "It seems to me I have trusted too well…as some of my ancestors did where the dwarves are concerned."

"Have you heard they are calling him Kili Blackarrow?" Estel asked with a chuckle. "Apparently he turned the orcs' own weapons against them."

"I don't want to talk about dwarves anymore," the prince said, moaning lightly as he leaned into Estel's touch. "One thing I can never forgive Thorin Oakenshield…he tried to take _you_ away from me," he said, opening his eyes to look up at his hope. "Everyone else is gone now. I _cannot_ lose you…my Estel."

Estel smiled sadly at his companion. "Legolas…meleth nin…what if I were dying and the only way you could save my life was by doing something evil? What would you do?"

For a moment, Legolas looked torn, for he knew what he was being asked and he could never say that it was a different situation. Eventually, though, his resolve settled in his eyes.

"No price is too great for you…meleth nin."

"And I would say the same of you," Estel said, leaning forward and laying a kiss on his brow. "Maybe someday you will see the same in Thorin."

"Would you feel the same…if it had been me he tried to kill?"

Estel's eyes darkened at this, and he ultimately shook his head. "I could not say…for I do not know. We can only pray it never comes to that."

"It may yet, Estel," Legolas said, moving to his feet so the pair could rest their foreheads together, their fingers twining with each other as they stood together. "You are very young and brave, meleth nin…and the world still seems so just in your eyes. But we may yet come to such a darkness," he said, pressing a tender kiss against Estel's lips. Estel sighed softly against him, and for a long while the two just stood, holding each other.

XxX

It was nearly a month after Thorin's departure when Oin and Risling finally cleared Bilbo to depart from the Lonely Mountain. In all that time, he'd been going over maps with Balin and Dwalin…what few maps there were, anyway. The lands to the east of Rhovanion were not well mapped and his friends only had vague ideas of where their fellow dwarf clans resided beyond the Iron Hills.

Balin was fairly certain there was still a dwarf city in the Orocarni, the mountain range near to the eastern coast. Last he knew, a dwarf called Twarin was king there, leader of the Ironfist clan. As there was truly no way to know where Thorin had gone, Bilbo figured it would be best to begin in the East and search until he found him, maybe even for the rest of his life, if need be.

A large crowd had gathered to see the hobbit off. At the front of it all was what remained of the original company, along with their families. Fili and little Zel clung tightly to him, as the others bid him farewell.

"We'll miss you," Fili said, doing her best to keep a brave face.

"Aren't you ever coming back?" Zel sobbed quietly.

"Maybe someday," Bilbo said, patting the dwarfling's head. "I'll miss you both very much. Do you think you could take care of my garden wile I'm away?"

Both siblings nodded, hugging him one last time.

"You remember, lad, you're always welcome here, whether you find him or not," Balin said as Bilbo pulled him into a hug.

"I remember…but I _will_ find him."

"Sure I can't interest ye in any extra blades?" Dwalin asked as he thumped him on the shoulder.

"No. Sting will do just fine," he said, patting the sword strapped to his hip.

"It's going to be horrible not having you around," Ori said, stepping in for a hug. "But we all hope you find him. I wish you luck."

"Thank you. Hopefully _you'll_ have made some changes when I see you next," Bilbo said, meeting Ori's gaze meaningfully, at which the young dwarf blushed lightly.

Dori and Nori were next, and while Dori fussed, Bilbo noticed Nori slip an extra knife into his jacket when he hugged him.

"Now don't be forgetting to bath and eat proper. No reason to behave like a savage, even if you _will_ be living on the road," the eldest of the three brothers advised, wringing his hands slightly before giving the hobbit a hug.

"I pity any creature what gets in your way, master burglar," Gloin said, crushing him in a brief one-armed hug. Oin just offered a grin, signing to him in Iglishmek to take care of himself.

Bila came forward to hug him and Gimli pounded him on the back. The young dwarf had mellowed out a great deal after having his ass handed to him by the hobbit.

"Go show those easterners what the Longbeards are made of."

Bombur and Bifur embraced him together, Bombur slipping him another meat pie for the journey and Bifur miming last minute advice about splitting skulls. Bofur stood apart from the others, though, looking well and truly dejected. When Bilbo approached him, he thought he saw a spark of hurt in his eyes.

"I know you don't want this," Bilbo said, laying his hands on his friend's shoulders. "I know you're worried. You've been my friend from the beginning…my _best_ friend…but you know I have to do this."

At this, Bofur seized him in a fierce embrace, holding him tightly against his chest.

"He don't deserve you," Bofur whispered. Bilbo could feel the warm wetness of his friend's tears against his face as they embraced. "After what he did to you…he don't deserve you."

"I know, Bofur…I know. I'm sorry," Bilbo soothed, speaking to the words his friend _wasn't_ saying just as much as the ones he was.

"I would go with you…you know that, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. I know I wouldn't even have to ask…but this is something I have to do on my own. If I don't go after him, I'll never forgive myself."

"You're a ruddy fool, Bilbo Baggins," Bofur said, slowly starting to release him. "But I suppose it's what makes you you. You drag him back here the minute you find him."

"It's a promise. I _will_ see you all again," he said, squeezing Bofur's hand one last time before moving on to Kili and Risling, who both hugged him.

"You are braver than most beings I know, Bilbo," Risling said, kissing his forehead. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

Kili stared at him oddly for a moment before embracing him again. "Certainly braver than I, my halfling uncle…to face the unknown…so soon after being so badly hurt…"

"Oh, no, Kili…not at all. I cannot imagine the kind of courage it takes…forced to live your life without the one you love."

For a moment, Kili looked almost stricken by his words, but then his face shifted into a sort of half-smile. "Well? What are you waiting for? Don't spend even another minute trying to figure out what it feels like. Get yourself gone."

"One more thing," Bilbo said, turning to Dis and drawing something out of his coat. "Would you keep this for me…in…incase Thorin comes back? I want him to know I haven't forgotten."

The item he offered to his sister-in-law was a lopped off braid of his own hair. Granted, it was not nearly as substantial as the thick braid of dwarven hair that currently resided in his pack, but it was still his…and it would serve as a sign for Thorin. He had gone back to the shorthaired look he'd worn…long before the quest…before Thorin. All of the hair had been cut close except for a single braid that trailed from behind his right ear…his symbol to those who knew…that he was searching for his love.

"I will keep your heart safe…so long as you care for Thorin's," Dis promised as she tucked the braid inside her own cloak. Then she also pulled him into a one-armed hug. "I have no doubt you will keep it from harm. Now go, Nadadith. Go and bring peace to my brother."

Nodding, Bilbo took a deep breath, turning to look at the plains that stretched off and away into the East. Somewhere out in that big, wide world, Thorin was waiting for him. Yet, for some reason, the road ahead didn't seem so frightening as it had that very first time he'd stepped out of Bag End…for this time he knew that his love was waiting for him at the end of this journey.

"Well, it's early yet, and the road is long," Bilbo said, smiling at them all one last time before heading away from the mountain…off toward yet another adventure.


End file.
